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The Fortune of 
Christina M‘Nab 


S. MACNAUGHTAN 



NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1901 




Th F 'LIBRARY OF 
0ONGRESS, 
Two Coi-itS Reocived 

NOV. 25 1901 

CoPVRJOhT entry 

OxX I O^ie[0 { 

CLASS ^ XXc No. 

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COPY B. 


Copyright, 1901, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 


A// rights reserved 


TO 

BEATRICE KEMP 


I INSCRIBE THIS BOOK 



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THE FORTUNE 
OE CHRISTINA MNAB 


CHAPTER I 

It’s an awful lot of money,” said Colin. 

Comfortable,” replied Christina, with a 
smirk. 

’Deed, I think it’s more than comforts you 
will be able to purchase now,” said Colin dryly; 
and he added as a logical conclusion, I suppose 
you will be marrying some swell, eh? ” 

“ I suppose so,” quoth Christina, matter-of-fact 
and brief, as is the manner of her nation. 

What sort of man are you thinking to get? ” 
asked her companion. 

lord,” replied Christina comprehensively. 
May I ask you to imagine that the conversa- 
tion between these two persons was carried on in 
the Scottish tongue, of which the accent was broad 
and a little uncouth, but emphatic. So that when 
Christina announced her intention to marry a 
lord, she pronounced the word lorrrd,” and it 
rolled from her lips with a fine convincing reso- 
nance. 


1 


2 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

I hear thej^re cheap at present,” remarked 
Colin. 

“ ni can pay top price,” retorted Christina, 
flushing a little. 

They both belonged to trade, these young 
people. 

And you’ll no be engaged to me any longer, 
I suppose ? ” Colin made the remark without any 
emotion. 

Christina gave a snort of disdain: ’Deed, 
Sandy,” she cried, “ does a lassie with eighteen 
thousand a year marry an electrical engineer? ” 

N^aw,” said Colin judicially, “ she does not.” 
He added as an after-thought: “I’m no sure I’d 
think much of her if she did — at least until she 
had had a try for something better.” 

Christina’s sniff was a triumph of art in its 
own way, a very gem amongst sniffs, for it ex- 
pressed accurately Christina’s thoughts and her 
excellent • opinion of her own powers, together 
with a self-confident assurance of her own suc- 
cess — and all this in one sniff, without the clumsy 
medium of words. 

“ Just wait you and see,” replied Colin, inter- 
preting with absolute correctness the thought so 
delicately conveyed. 

Christina M^Hab and Colin M^Crae (her hith- 
erto affianced husband) were sitting in the ugly 
dining-room of an ugly house, in a very ugly town. 
They sat in the dining-room because the drawing- 
room was unfurnished — never had been furnished 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


3 


— and all that Christina knew of its habitable 
qualities was on the occasion of a prayer-meeting 
which had been held there, and later, during the 
last three days, when the “ corp ’’ had lain within 
its walls. 

The dining-room had all the comfortable stuffi- 
ness so dear to the bourgeois heart and lungs; and 
the very curtains, carpets and furniture conveyed 
a subtle odour of departed dinners, fog, and gas. 
It was furnished with six horse-hair chairs, and 
one gent’s arm do.; an uneasy sofa, black, shiny, 
and slippery, boasted the same unlovely covering, 
and a sausage-shaped cushion upon it suggested a 
resting-place for the head, with which, as far as 
comfort was concerned, Jacob’s stone would have 
compared favourably. A round table occupied 
the middle of the room, and some eight or ten 
gas jets flared overhead. 

“ I’ll have enough lights for once,” Christina 
had said. This flare of gas jets was her first ex- 
travagance. 

Colin sat in the gent’s arm-chair, his fair head 
thrown back on the horse-hair, and the buttons 
which indented its surface. He was dressed in 
workman’s clothes, and his boots were big and his 
hands horny. His face, as nearly as possible, re- 
sembled that of the Apollo Belvedere, and his 
great square shoulders and splendid limbs were 
those of a graceful young giant. 

Christina was dressed in deep mourning — the 
crape-weighted, solemn mourning of the middle- 


4 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


class Scotswoman. She had frizzy red hair, which 
was parted down the middle with quite an aston- 
ishing air of demureness, and lay like a ruddy 
mist on her very white forehead. Her eyes were 
large, and grey, and dreamy, and her nose was 
very wide-awake, while her mouth was inscru- 
table and indescribable, and very provoking alto- 
gether. She sat on one of the six horse-hair 
chairs, and gazed admiringly at the gas jets, whose 
flames were rapidly poisoning the atmosphere. 

It’s an awful pity,” said Colin, that you 
hadn’t known all along how rich your father 
was.” 

Tears sprang to Christina’s lovely eyes. “ Eh,” 
she cried, would any one but an elder of the 
Eree Kirk of Scotland have done it! ” A little 
sob escaped her. “ Here have I been dressing 
on twenty pounds a year, and wearing a jacket 
two winters, and I have had no one but old Jessie 
to do for us. I’ve given way to every girl in the 
church choir, and hardly dared the presumption 
of asking the assistant to tea! I’ve stooped, Coliu, 
stooped to be civil to my inferiors; I even got 
engaged to be married to an electrical engineer ! ” 

Aye, and wad have been married to him in 
six months more,” said Colin, grimly triumphing 
with her in her escape. 

And I’ve eighteen thousand a year! ” cried 
the girl. She left her seat and came and stood 
beside the young man, and gave a little shake 
to his coat-sleeve to emphasize her speech. I’ve 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


5 


eighteen thousand a year, and not even an English 
accent to back me up! ’’ 

Colin took a mean advantage of her unusual 
humility, and began to brag. He said, “ Well, 
I am glad I am a minister’s son, and have had a 
good education, and my grandmother’s sister was 
an English lady, and the wife of an earl.” 

Christina went back to her place by the table, 
crossing her hands in a prim way she had, and 
remarked calmly, It’s not the first time you have 
told me that, and although it was a Gretna Green 
marriage, and no just what I would call respect- 
able, it is what always gave you a sort of value 
in my eyes, and made me give up the assistant 
in your favour.” 

“ And I can talk very English when I like,” 
said Colin, quite unmoved. “ When I was in 
London you could hardly tell the difference be- 
tween me and the other chaps, except that they 
could never manage to say their ^ R’s.’ ” 

It is the English beats me,” said Christina 
with a sigh. “ I can manage French a wee bit, 
but there is no rule for the English tongue by 
which a body can pick it up.” 

1^0, you’ve just got to live amongst them as 
I did,” said Colin complacently. “ I mind there 
was a great deal in the language which bothered 
me at first, but I got my tongue round it in 
time.” 

I hawp,” replied Christina, and her air was 
really splendid for a little woman — one, more- 


6 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


over, who was hampered by a provincial accent, 
I hawp, Colin, that what you can manage will 
not be beyond my power to accomplish.’’ 

Obsairve,” said Colin, “ you’ll not need to 
say ^ hawp.’ ” 

I did not say ^ hawp.’ ” 

“ And English people never say ^ I,’ but ‘ Oi.’ 
Then ” — giving himself a satisfied turn in his chair 
— “ there is another thing I nawticed in their lan- 
guage — never say ^ fire ’ but ^ fah,’ and so with 
worrrds of a like description. ^ Ahland ’ for ^ Ire- 
land,’ and ^ wahed ’ if you have sent a telegram.” 

Thank you, Colin.” 

Again, even when the word is a matter of 
two syllables, take no notice. Say ^ Frah ’ for 
^ Friar,’ and ^ brah ’ for ^ briar.’ Thus — ‘ sweet- 
brah ’ and ^ Blackfrah’s-Bridge.’ You can only 
lairn these things by living in their country.” 

“I am going to live in their country; I am 
going to London.” 

So I would suppose. To continue; there are 
such words as ^ burrrn ’ and ‘ furrrn ’ ; never say 
them as they are written, say ^ buhn ’ and ^ fehn.’ 
(It’s difficult at furrrst, but you’ll come » into it, 
just as I did.) And in the same way, call the 
^ door ’ the ^ daw,’ and the ^ floor ’ the ‘ flaw,’ and 
vou’ll need to call me ^ illacCrae ’ and yourself 
^iracYab.’ ” 

I am going to take two ^ b’s.’ Don’t let on 
to any one! ” 

Two names would be better with a wee 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 7 


stroke in between them. What did they call your 
mother? ’’ 

“ Macquorquodale : a good Scotch name/’ re- 
plied Christina. 

Maybe the two ^ b’s ’ will be better till you 
change your name. Where are you going to set 
about looking for your lord? ” 

I have considered the subject, but have not 
yet finally decided,” replied Christina. But I 
have reason to suppause that London is your best 
chance.” 

“ I suppose now,” said Colin, you’ll need 
some sort of — I’ll not go so far as to say ^ edu- 
cation,’ but a kind of preparation before you’ll 
can go into Society? ” 

I feel myself fitted to move in the highest 
caircles,” said Christina grandly. Inwardly her 
heart misgave her, But it’s not to Colin M^Crae 
I’ll show it,” she said to herself. 

Woman, you are just perfect,” responded 
Colin, “ but you have not got the English tone.” 

“ That’s just the bit,” replied Christina, hum- 
bled suddenly by Colin’s kind, if only just appre- 
ciation of her. 

How I was thinking I might help you.” 

“ Indeed ! ” sarcastically. 

You know I’m related to the aristoc- 
racy ” 

“ And don’t know one of them, even by head- 
mark, much less to speak to! ” Christina inter- 
rupted. 


8 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


“ Whisht now, till I have done : Lady Anne 
Drummond is own cousin to my mother, wrestle 
with it how you like. And I happen to know 
that she is coming in to town to the Exhibiuon 
— perhaps she will help to open it — I could not 
say for that, but anyway she is coming, and she 
is going to be staying at the Grand Hotel too, 
for I am putting in some lights there, and I have 
seen the letter in which she engages rooms.’’ 

Are you going to call upon her,” asked Chris- 
tina sardonically. 

I’ve done stranger things ! ” 

You’ll get a strange welcome, I am thinking. 
The Gretna Green marriage was not what you 
would call popular, I’ve always understood.” 

You don’t understand the aristocracy, Chris- 
tina; the more unpopular a fact is, the better 
face they try to put on it.” 

Curious,” said Christina. 

“ But it’s facts I am telling you, and — this 
for your good, Christina — never give them pity, 
they would rather take impertinence.” 

“What will you say to Lady Anne?” asked 
Christina. 

“ I’ll just say — Cousin Anne, I am engaged 
to be married to a young lady who has come into 
a fearful lot of money, and ” 

“ Colin M^Crae,” quoth Christina, “ you are 
driving me very near to desperation.” 

“ Hoots ! I’ll say that you are going to break 
off the engagement, if you can get anybody better. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


9 


and that I am willing you should try. But if I 
am going to ask favours for you, it^s more respect- 
able to say that we are engaged.’^ 

What favours are you going to ask.” 

“ Bll wait till I can see whether I can get 
them first,” was Colin^s canny rejoinder. 

On the following Saturday, it being his half- 
holiday, he impressed upon Christina that he was 
giving up a fine bicycle ride on her behalf, and 
that he expected her to be grateful. 

Fll see first what you get,” was Christina^s 
reply. 

Colin put on his best clothes, and took a tram- 
way car to the hotel, so as not to spoil his 
boots. He picked his way to the front door 
and asked “ if Lady Anne Drummond was in 
just now? ” 

The man said he would see, and looking doubt- 
fully at Colin, asked if he had any message, or 
should he give her ladyship his name. 

“ Just say her cousin wants to see her,” said 
Colin. 

Lady Anne came into the room in some per- 
plexity: she shook hands with her guest, and then 
said, “ The waiter . . . did I understand the 
waiter to say that you had brought a message 
from some cousin of mine?” 

Lady Anne had a cousin who was ranching in 
Canada, and she wondered if he had sent home 
some message, or, perhaps, an offering of skins, 
such as Colonials send to their relatives at home, 


10 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


by the hand of a friendly settler dressed in home- 
ly raiment, and with the face of an Apollo. 

Sit down,’’ said Colin kindly; and Lady Anne 
obediently seated herself. 

“ I understand that you are thinking you will 
have to let Poplar’s Court? ” said Colin. 

^^We have hardly decided upon that,” said 
Lady Anne a little haughtily. Then bethinking 
herself of the impoverished state of the family 
acres, and that only too soon would they and the 
old big house indeed have to be let, she swallowed 
her pride, or as much of it as she could, and said, 
‘‘ Our agents are Messrs. Mure and Brydell, if 
you care to hear any particulars about the place.” 

Colin laughed joyously: I’m not thinking of 
taking the place,” he said. I’m an Electrical 
Engineer.” 

Indeed,” said Lady Anne. 

“ This is a sort of delicate subject,” began 
Colin gravely; and remembering his advice to 
Christina — “ I should like to say at the onset that 
I am not pitying you. I know fine that you will 
like to say when you let the big house that you 
are just ettling to go abroad for a year, and I 
am no the one to go against that saying, so far 
as my conscience purrmits. But before I proceed, 
I wad like to prove the relationship, for that is 
the only way that the subject can be approached 
with suffeecient delicacy.” 

I do not think I quite understand,” said poor 
Lady Anne. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 11 


I do not blame you for that/’ said Colin 
reassuringly. “ You see/’ clearing his throat, and, 
with great delicacy, directing his gaze out of the 
window, my grandmother’s sister was married 
to your grandfather; only there was such a to-do 
about the marriage, and Gretna Green, being as 
I understand, a sore trouble to you all, further- 
more the family being kind to my grandmother’s 
sister, once they knew the marriage could no be 
put on one side — we thought we would ease you 
by not claiming the relationship — though I’ll ad- 
mit that I have made traffic with it in the case 
of Christina.” 

“ You are one of the M^Craes, I suppose,” 
said Lady Anne. The thought crossed her mind 
that perhaps it was from her grandmother that 
she got her beauty; and some feeling of kinship 
awoke in her, and she smiled kindly upon the 
young man. 

I am very pleased you take the situation so 
well,” said Colin. 

Lady Anne thanked him. 

I’m engaged to Christina,” said Colin, 'pro- 
visionally. If she can get any one better with 
her money. I’ll not stand in her way.” 

That seemed fair enough from a commercial 
point of view, only Lady Anne had never heard 
a case stated quite so frankly. 

^^You see,” said Colin, she has now got 
eighteen thousand a year.” 

Lady Anne gasped. In the present state of 
2 


12 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


her own family exchequer, the sum named almost 
staggered her. “ Dear me ! she said, “ that is 
a large, an immense fortune, is it not ? 

It’s colossal,” said Colin gravely. How, the 
first thing we have both thought of,” he contin- 
ued, is to get her educate in the English — not 
to say the aristocratic tone. I would like it if I 
married her myself, and I’d like it still more if 
she gets a lord.” 

Such reasonableness was a little staggering, 
but that it was reasonableness could not be de- 
nied. 

She is twenty-one, and too old to go to 
school.” 

Yes?” 

“ Otherwise we thought a year at a Brighton 
Seminary for Young Ladies would have helped 
her.” 

Is she, that is, has her education been neg- 
lected?” asked her ladyship. 

“I’ll not deceive you. Christina has got all 
the rudiments of education, and passed first at the 
High School in most of the subjects. But, ob- 
sairve, you will not have nawticed it, perhaps, that 
I speak with a wee bit of a Scotch accent? Well, 
Christina’s is just awful! I felt it, even when I 
was engaged to her myself, and what a lord would 
think of it, I relly dawn’t knaw.” 

And this conversation he faithfully repeated 
to Christina the very next time that they met. 

Lady Anne was a little puzzled. “ What lord 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 13 


is it that she thinks of marrying? ” she asked. 

Is it any one I know ? 

“ She has not, so to say, met him yet,’’ an- 
swered Colin, “ but we think if she went to Lon- 
don, she might do so. It’s a lord that Christina 
is set on, and if her money will get her one, I 
think she has every right to choose for herself.” 

“ It’s — it’s very kind of you to tell me all 
this,” said Lady Anne, by way of gracefully 
leading the conversation to some point that 
would show why she had been consulted upon 
the subject. 

“ It’s pure self-interest,” said Colin. 

You wanted me to help in some way, to — 
to tell you of some school? ” 

“ We have given up the idea of a school. ]^o, 
it would have to be by mixing with people. 
Christina knows some good families, but she does 
not mix with them. It’s mixing that does it! 
And she is no so pretty as she was. She ought 
to mix and get her chances as soon- as she can.” 

I should be very happy if you would bring 
her to call,” said Lady Anne kindly. Perhaps 
she would like me to introduce her to a few 
people ? ” 

“ITot in Inmboro’I” said Colin decisively. 

Christina is going to shake the very dust of the 
city off her feet.” 

There followed a silence of some minutes’ 
duration. Colin had been wearing a very large 
bowler hat, which he still held in his hands; 


14 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

and this he slowly turned round and round. And 
then he began to pick the ribbon off it, while large 
beads of perspiration stood upon his brow, and his 
eyes assumed a troubled expression. 

He rose suddenly and laid his hat upon the 
table : “ If I am to save that hat,’’ he remarked, 
“ I’ll need to speak at once.” Then — 

You will please to remember that I am a 
relation ” 

“ Oh, yes ! ” Lady Anne gave another of her 
kind smiles — 

And that I feel very sorely that Poplar’s 
Court is to be let.” 

That is very kind of you.” 

I think I’ll write,” he said. 

Lady Anne put her hand kindly upon his arm : 

I think,” she said, “ that I begin to see what 
you want to say.” 

“ I hope you do,” said Colin, “ for it would 
be fearsome work beginning again.” 

“ You want to suggest that IVIiss — I am afraid 
I don’t know her name yet? ” — 

“ M^Hab,” said Colin, but she’s going to spell 
it with two ' b’s.’ ” 

That Miss M^Hab would like to come and 
live with us for a time, and see some society, be- 
fore she goes into the larger world of London, 
is not that so? I believe that such things are 
often done now; but you will understand that I 
cannot arrange anything of that sort quite sud- 
denly. I must ask Mr. Drummond what he thinks, 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 15 


and, perhaps, you will bring Miss M^lSTab to call 
upon us when he comes to Inmboroh’’ 

This is more,’’ said Colin, “ than I thought 
you would do at first. Indeed, you might have 
shown me to the door! ” 

Why, you are my cousin! ” said Lady Anne. 


CHAPTEK II 


Object to having a girl with twenty thou- 
sand a year in your house! Object to a girl who 
offers, who presses two thousand a year upon you 
for the privilege of living in the dullest house 
in England! O Lord, my dear Anne, I wouldn’t 
object to the girl if she were a Malay! I wouldn’t 
object to her if she were bad, mad, genteel — any- 
thing you like. We will have some of the rooms 
papered, and give her a good time. Two thou- 
sand a year, by Gad, it’s a special Providence! 
I’ll go to Church next Sunday, and say the 
General Thanksgiving from beginning to end. 
I’ll ” 

You must not sell horses to her, Dick, that 
is the one stipulation I make, and we must give 
Miss M^Hah the opportunity of marrying well; 
she wants to marry a lord, she says.” 

She may marry Southwark if she likes! 
Give your brother the first chance, Anne; twenty 
thousand a year, even if made in tubes, ought not 
to be allowed to go out of the family.” 

You forget poor Muriel,” said Lady Anne. 

Christina, meanwhile, was buying two new 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 17 


dresses for her visit, and debating within herself 
whether or not she could make her last winter’s 
jacket serve till the warm weather came, or if 
she would have to get a new one. She sat in the 
little gas-lit parlour at nights and wrote down an 
account of all the money she had spent, and trem- 
bled. It’s awful to spend so much on clothes,” 
she said to Colin M^Crae, when he came in one 
evening with his workman’s cap stuck on the back 
of his head, and his hand grimy with work; twen- 
ty pounds just runs away afore you know where 
you are, and I used to have to make twenty 
pounds do me the whole year.” 

Twenty pounds! ” laughed Colin. Chris- 
tina, have ye got a sealskin jacket and a new 
silk umbrella? Have ye got patent leather boots 
and a velvet dress? Twenty pounds! I suppose 
my cousin. Lady Anne, would spend that on a 
single dress.” 

I can’t bring myself to spend the money, 
and that’s a fact,” said Christina. She began to 
cry a little. It fears me,” she said, and I feel 
whiles as if a judgment would fall on me.” 

Buy some fine gowns furst,” said Colin. 

I know my trunk is far through,” Christina 
went on, but I might make it do ; and suppose 
I were to get a new one, what would I do with 
my old one ? ” 

You might get four shillings for it if you 
sold it,” said Colin with a sniff. Christina 
M^hTab, are you aware that you should be spending 


18 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M'NAB 


over fifty pounds a day to get through all you 
have got to get through? ” 

“ I can’t do it/’ said Christina, it fears me.” 

She invited Colin to stay and have tea with her 
as it was her last night, and Jessie coming in to 
clear the table and set the tea things, they partook 
of scones and cold meat together for the last time. 
Jessie had suggested roasting a chicken in honour 
of the occasion. “ Then how is the cold meat to 
get eaten? ” asked Christina, gravely conclusive. 

Are you preaching sinful waste like Mr. 
M^Crae?” she asked. 

Here’s luck! ” said Colin, smiling at her over 
the rim of his tea-cup; hut Christina’s courage 
had failed her to-night. 

“ Colin,” she said wistfully, I wish you were 
going to see me through.” 

“ I’ve no been invited,” said Colin, in his lit- 
eral way, “ but I’ll write to you whiles, and give 
you instructions how to behave ” 

“ Juist daur! ” from Christina. 

^^And I’ll come to the station and see you 
off to-morrow. Mind you to take a first class 
ticket. I’ll not have my folk disgraced! ” 

Mr. Drummond came to London himself to 
meet his guest, and found Christina where she 
stood beside her shabby trunk all forlorn at Eus- 
ton Station. The trunk was marked C. M.,” 
and Mr. Drummond gave himself great credit for 
having noticed this. He bustled up in a jerky,, 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 19 


fussy, kindly way that he had: “Look here, my 
dear,’’ he said, for that was his invariable mode 
of addressing a pretty girl, “ Look here, my dear 
child,” the girl was so excessively pretty that he 
added the “ child,” “ are you Miss M^Nab’s maid, 
and can you tell me which the dickens is she, 
and where her luggage is? ” 

Poor Christina made no answer. 

“ So awf’ly sorry,” jerked Mr. Drummond, 
“ no impertinence I assure you; looking for a lady, 
and have no more idea what she is like than the 
man in the moon: ^ C. M.’ on your box, you 
know! ” He lifted his hat, and was bustling off 
again when Christina with her heart full and the 
tears very near her eyes said primly and severely, 
“7 am Miss M^Hab! ” 

“ Oh, my only Aunt ! ” said Mr. Drummond, 
putting up both his hands to his head with a tragic 
gesture. “ Don’t tell Anne,” he added; but Chris- 
tina was too cross to speak. 

“Where is your maid?” asked Mr. Drum- 
mond desperately. (“ She will give me away to 
Anne, and say that I called her ^ my dear child ’ ; 
I do wish I could learn not to play the ass.”) 

“ I left my maid at home,” said Christina 
promptly. Undoubtedly Jessie was a “ maid,” and 
she was at this moment at Christina’s old home in 
Murchison Street, but Christina was loaded with 
a sense of guilt, and the burden of falsehood begat 
in her a feeling of irritation. “ It’s all the fault 
of London,” she was saying to herself, “ and this 


20 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


rediculous little Englisliman; I’m ashamed to be 
contaminated already.” 

“ Well, we must find the rest of your luggage,” 
rattled on Mr. Drummond, fidgetting from one 
foot to another. I ought to have brought my 
man; he’s a good sort, my man. I call him my 
moral censor. E^early every one I know is my 
moral censor. Miss M^ISTab, so the same name ap- 
plies to every one, which saves a deal of trouble. 
E’ow then, I’ve got a brougham here — it ought to 
be here, at least — but he has fied, because he is an 
hireling! There he is! You just get in and sit 
tight, will you. Miss M^Yab? and I’ll collect the 
baggage. What initials, eh ? ” 

This is my luggage,” said Christina severely. 
Capital, capital. The maid bringing the 
rest, I suppose? 'No bike or anything? Why, you 
are a trump. Miss M^Nab, a perfect trump! ” He 
was becoming quite cheerful again, and having 
settled himself in the brougham, remarked geni- 
ally, What a wife you would make ! ” 

No reply suggesting itself to Christina she re- 
mained silent. Also, she was engaged in mentally 
condemning Colin for not having told her that 
Mr. Drummond was mad. 

And you had a comfortable journey, and no 
babies in the carriage or anything beastly of that 
sort? ” Mr. Drummond frequently assumed in 
this way some statement that had never been 
made, and hardly troubled to add an illuminating 
mark of interrogation afterwards. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 21 


The journey was not comfortable,” said 
Christina, although ” — impressively — “ I trav- 
elled first class.” 

“ And felt all the time ^ There are those lucky 
brutes who like travelling third class; they’ve 
spent half the money, and arrived just as soon.’ 
I know that feeling so well.” 

Christina felt that it would be useless to re- 
mark that no such thought had been hers, so she 
remained silent; and Mr. Drummond told her 
twice in rapid succession that she was dead-tired, 
that she had had a beastly lunch and was feeling 
as home-sick as a cat, and that he was deuced 
sorry this should be so, but she would feel better 
when she should see Anne. 

“ I should like awfully to unpack for you,” he 
said, in a kind fussing way, when they reached 
the hotel, but ’pon my word, I don’t know if 
Anne would think it the right thing; but I’ll send 
my man to you if that would be any good,” he 
added. 

Christina thanked him in a chilly voice, and 
said she could 'Mo for herself.” She removed 
her very unbecoming hat and shook out her lovely 
hair, which she fastened in a big knot at the back 
of her head. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue 
and big with loneliness, and she looked so beautiful 
when she entered the coffee-room for a late dinner 
that every one’s head was turned towards her. 

" By George ! ” exclaimed Mr. Drummond. 
" Oh, I say — perhaps I had better not say what 


22 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


I was going to say — but, by Jove, you know. Miss 
M^Nab, you will knock ’em all ovei’, you know. 
Gad, you will! ” 

He passed the whole of dinner-time in bestow- 
ing jerky spasmodic attentions upon his guest, in 
abusing his own indiscretions, and in wondering 
painfully what Anne would say. 

“I ordered champagne. Miss M^Hab; I hope 
that is what you like. Just say if you would 
prefer claret or anything.” 

Thank you,” said Christina; I do not taste.” 

As this remark was unintelligible to the Eng- 
lishman, he continued to pour the liquid into 
Christina’s glass, who presently remarked that he 
was just wasting good wine for which many a 
poor person would be thankful. 

Mr. Drummond looked distressed and embar- 
rassed. He remarked in a tone of gravity that 
the Paw were always with us, so they were, by 
Jove, even the Bible said that; and although he 
knew that Miss M^Hab was thinking that a sinner 
like himself had no business to quote Scripture, 
still the thing was a fact — he studied the paw-law 
a good bit himself. 

I hope he is harmless,” thought Christina. 
She explained in fuller terms that she did not 
drink wine, and added the rider that all ladies 
were to be condemned who did so.” 

I don’t quite see what else they are to drink,” 
said poor Mr. Drummond, everything else is so 
beastly. A glass of water always has such a de- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 23 


pressing appearance, and lemonade makes you 
feel so sort of aerated and c^ueer.’’ 

He seemed a little crushed in spirit, and re- 
mained very quiet and subdued till the end of 
dinner. Christina sat opposite to him without 
speaking. She had her purse, her bedroom door- 
key, and a small box containing a few trinkets on 
her knee, and these she held securely whenever the 
waiter came near. London is such an awfully 
wicked place,’’ she was thinking. I’ve told a lie 
myself before I have been in it ten minutes, and 
there is no saying what these poor men who have 
been brought up in it will do.” Her own lie 
weighed heavily upon her, and she thought of 
nothing but it the whole of dinner time. 

Would you like to go to your room now? ” 
asked Mr. Drummond, when the meal was ended; 

there’s no hurry about goin’ down to Popples 
to-morrow. Have a comfy bit of breakfast in bed, 
and we can wire to Anne, and go down when you 
feel inclined.” 

I have just .the one maid,” said Christina, 
lifting adorable white eyelids, and speaking in a 
little mincing way which she called English, And 
she is not a leddy’s maid ” 

She’ll improve, she’ll improve,” said Mr. 
Drummond hopefully, that is what I always say 
to Anne, ^ They’ll improve,’ bless you, why, I have 
improved myself! ” 

1 have just one box, and I am not ex- 
pecting Jessie to follow me. Good-night! ” 


24 THE FOKTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


She went up to her room with her face flushed, 
muttering crossly to herself, making such a like 
fool of myself, and all for the sake of a maid, 
too! Colin was just a sumph not to tell me I 
ought to have had a maid. Well, if I get one in 
England it will save the expense of bringing her 
from Scotland. But the deil will not catch me 
telling lies again; it’s just a rediculous occupa- 
tion.” 

Mr. Drummond, meanwhile, was dashing off 
a few lines to his wife: — 

My Daelino Anne — I hope it is all right 
about the heiress; she seems a bit cracked, but 
fearfully pretty. I am in a cold sweat when I 
think she may not have the dollars after we have 
got those rooms papered.” (Mr. Drummond 
spent large sums like a millionaire, but was ad- 
dicted to cold sweats and fearful tremblings at 
the most unexpected times, and at the expendi- 
ture of very small sums.) “ I wish you had been 
able to come and meet her, as, of course, it’s 
beastly for her being met by a fool like me. She 
hangs on to her purse and her door-key all the 
time, and seems hard up, but I vote we have her 
down all the same and give her a good time for a 
bit. Perhaps she would pay for the papers any- 
way, and we could say the drains are wrong or 
something, if she turns out to be a fraud — she is 
pretty enough for anything. God bless you, my 
sweet ! Dick. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 25 


You might ask a parson or two to dine soon; 
she seems awfully strict, and likes talking about 
the poor. 

“ I open this to add that she is a teetotaler. I 
can’t make out if that means that she drinks noth- 
ing, like a camel, or if she only drinks things that 
don’t do you a mite of good. Tell John not to 
sing comic songs for the first night or two. 

'' D.D.” 

Christina slept with her purse under her pil- 
low, and gave the chamber-maid a shilling upon 
leaving. 

The next morning she awoke at Poplar’s 
Court, known in the vernacular of society as 
“ Popples.” A housemaid, built up of starch and 
respectability, who over-night had inquired of her 
whether she would take coffee, chocolate, or tea 
in the morning, brought to her bed-side a little 
tray with French rolls and butter upon it, and a 
silver coffee-pot. She proceeded to light the fire 
and draw back the curtains, while Christina lay and 
watched her with big sleepy eyes, and thought how 
large the room was, and hoped it was not wicked 
to be so luxurious and to lie in bed drinking cafe 
au lait, when the winter sun was shining and 
folk were getting to work. The housemaid, whose 
dress crackled as she walked, then removed the 
tray, and asked if she should turn on the bath. 

Your own bathroom is next door, ma’am; and 
will you breakfast downstairs or have it brought 
up here? ” 


26 THE FOETUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


“ They seem to think one is very helpless/’ 
thought Christina. “ I’ll can turn on my own 
bath, thank you,” she said, “ and I’ll breakfast 
downstairs.” 

She missed her way to the breakfast room, 
and, led by voices, found herself in the library, 
where Mr. Drummond with a large Bible in front 
of him, and a countenance of the acutest distress, 
was expostulating loudly with his wife. Look 
here, Anne, this is a dreadful chapter that is 
coming; really, I can’t read it in front of the 
maids. Hang it, you know, I’m not a parson! 
If I had a white gown and all that, it would 
help me through. Give me the stamp-paper, 
please.” 

Good morning,” said Christina. 

Good morning, awf’ly glad to see you down 
and looking so fit. You are thinking how beastly 
the first morning in a strange house is; I know 
that feeling so well. But stick to it — stick to it; 
you can get accustomed to anything! Please don’t 
stay to prayers; I know I shall not get all the 
stamp-paper on in time.” 

He was busily cutting strips ofi the blank edge 
of stamps, and fixing them on to the leaves of the 
open book before him. I’m Bowdler at five stone 
ten,” he murmured, with a strip of paper upon 
his tongue, “ if I don’t do this. You know I shy 
at all the bad places, and then I get hot and my 
man gets hot, and everybody begins to listen. 
This will never do, I am afraid,” rumpling up his 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 27 


hair wildly from his forehead, I must take refuge 
in the Psalms again to-day, Anne/’ 

Lady Anne crossed the room gently, and came 
and stood by the big library chair, leaning over 
her husband and turning the leaves of the book 
with her fair hand. “ Kead this, Dickie,” she 
said, indicating a chapter for him. He kissed her 
hand before he let her go, and murmured a word 
of love. 

Then the servants came trooping in, and sat 
on long benches at the far end of the room, while 
their master, leaning both his elbows on the open 
page, and shoving his hands through his hair, 
rapped out the verses in a series of short, sharp 
barks. Two Collects followed in quite a headlong 
fashion, and Mr. Drummond rose from his knees 
with a very red face, avoiding the eyes of the 
whole congregation, and shut the Bible with a 
bang. 

I do it to please Anne,” he said, when he 
was taking Christina for a walk round the place ” 
after breakfast. “Fact is, you know,” he went 
on with the almost alarming frankness that distin- 
guished him, “ fact is, you know, I’m a reformed 
rake. Miss M^Hab; that is what I am. At least 
I am reforming; you couldn’t live with Anne 
without reforming. Anne Drummond is the best 
woman that God ever put on earth; I don’t care 
who the second is. You break out a bit — ^you 
can’t help it if you are a reformed rake — she for- 
gives you every time, and she will pray for you 
3 


28 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


like steam when you are playing tke goat all tlie 
time! ” 

The little man’s eyes were filled with tears, 
and there was an awkward silence. 

“ I’ll tell you another thing about her,” Mr. 
Drummond continued more cheerfully, “ she 
never draws the rein a hit too tight. I say I 
want to see some of my old pals; Anne says, ^ All 
right ’ ; so we have them down, and I paint the 
place red and blue for a bit, and so do they. 
Well, when that’s over, I’m all right again for 
a time. Then I say, ^ I’m awf’ly sorry, Anne,’ 
and she says, ‘ It’s all right, Dickie,’ and after 
that you don’t feel as if you’d ever break out 
again as long as you both do live, as the prayer- 
book says.” 

Christina said, “ Oh, indeed ! ” in a conven- 
tional, prim way; and Dick went indoors and told 
his wife that if Miss M^lS'ab were not so thunder- 
ing pretty, he’d be d d if he’d stand her! 

“ She is shy, I think,” said Lady Anne. 

“ I believe she is trying to put on side,” quoth 
her lord; and why the dickens does she speak in 
that prunes and prisms sort of way? Bless me, 
I like the girl most awfully — really I do — and it 
would be horribly awkward if she doesn’t stay 
long enough to cover, as you may say, the wall- 
papers! But why does she let ofi two words at 
you, and then hold her fire for the next half- 
hour?” 

Colin M^Crae told me she was very anxious 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 29 


to get rid of tier Scottish accent; perhaps that 
explains it.’’ 

“ She is a fool, I think — just a beautiful fool! ” 
“ J oan takes to her, I think,” said Anne diplo- 
matically. 

Does she? does Joan take to her? Well, I 
never knew Joan make a mistake yet. Hi, Joan, 
where is the child? Joan, come here, and tell 
me what you think of the P. G. ? ” 

Miss Joan Drummond was aged seven years, 
and had already learned to imitate her father ex- 
actly, and to speak his slang. 

“ She is not a thorough-bred ’un,” said Miss 
Joan, propping her chin on her hands, “ but she 
will do.” 

A bit awkward at starting, eh ? ” laughed 
her father. You are a precocious child, Joan, 
and you have no business to criticise your mother’s 
guests. Remember, you have got to be nice to 
her: you would hate to be in a strange house your- 
self. How go away and play about.” 

Presently Christina came in and sat down 
primly on the edge of the sofa; she still wore 
her walking dress of black cashmere made with 
little dabs and tabs of black silk, and a hat with 
feathers. She remarked laboriously that it was 
a fine morning, and that several puddles in the 
garden were covered with ice. 

Lady Anne left her writing-table, and came 
over with some work in her hand, and took a 
chair beside the girl.- 


30 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


You must tell me about your borne, and bow 
you left Colin,’’ sbe said kindly. 

Mr. M^Crae is very well,” minced Christina. 

“ How mucb interested be seems to be in bis 
work! He ought to get on well, I am sure.” 

I do not think that electrical engineering is 
at all the work for a gentleman,” said Christina 
grandly. 

This remark seemed to bring the conversation 
to an end. Lady Anne began another that prom- 
ised better. 

Had you many friends in Inmboro’ ? ” asked 
the kind voice. 

^^Yery few,” replied Christina, and I think 
this will be an advantage later on, for I do not 
mean to let on — I mean, allow — that I come from 
Inmboro’.” 

This seemed a little odd — unless, indeed, there 
were family reasons for wishing an old home 
forgotten. Lady Anne bowed her head courte- 
ously. 

I know two families who kept their car- 
riage,” volunteered Christina. One of them was 
quite English.” 

I fear all my prejudices are Scottish,” smiled 
Lady Anne. “ I love the people with their 
straightforward ways and their sincerity and good- 
ness. Your nationality must be a great bond of 
sympathy between us. Miss M^Hab.” 

^^You speak so pure,” said Christina admir- 
ingly. “ I would never guess you were Scotch.” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 31 


But I love the Scottish tongue best/’ laughed 
Lady Anne, “ and I can read Crockett’s books 
without a dictionary.” 

Oh, indeed ! ” said Christina. 

Lady Anne began again : “ Do you care for 
riding? The country about here is considered 
very pretty, and if you care about it we can mount 
you until you buy a horse for yourself. Shall 
you hunt while you are with us? ” 

Christina, still sitting bolt upright upon the 
edge of the sofa, replied “ I don’t ride, thank you; 
but ” — with the usual qualifying clause — “ I know 
several young ladies who do.” 

This seemed obvious. 

We must teach you to ride,” said Lady Anne 
kindly, Dick would enjoy it of all things, and we 
have an old cob that inspires every one with con- 
fidence! ” 

I have always heard that riding is very ex- 
pensive,” said Christina. 

Golf? golf was a Scottish game, and, no doubt, 
Christina was proficient in it; Dick was busy mak- 
ing links, and several putting greens were already 
turfed. 

I do not golf,” said Miss M^ISTab, but it is 
quite a fashionable pastime for ladies.” 

The morning passed in laborious conversation, 
and still more laborious silences. “ Oh,” thought 
poor Lady Anne, I wonder if she will sit on the 
edge of the sofa, and snub me the whole time she 
is here? Shall I learn to know what are fashion- 


32 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


able pastimes, and what are not, and shall we all 
have to be genteel? ” 

To visit with any degree of comfort in country 
houses, it is necessary to understand and to speak 
in the proper formula. “ Have you any letters 
to write ? from a hostess to a guest, means “ I 
am busy, or tired of you, and should feel obliged 
if you would go to your room or elsewhere for 
a bit.’^ “ I have letters to write,” from a guest 
to a hostess, means “ I am tired of sitting about 
and conversing, and should like to go and sit over 
my bedroom fire with a novel, and, if possible 
go to sleep till it is time for the next meal.” 

What are your plans?” from host to guest, is 
properly translated by “ When are you going to 
take yourself off? ” and “ I must retitrn to town 
on business,” is the polite way of saying “ I am 
bored, and do not intend to stay with you any 
longer.” An obstinate guest may sometimes be 
helped to take his departure by an order that 
^^the carriage may be wanted for the station to- 
day,” given in his hearing, to the coachman. “ We 
are very quiet people down here,” means ^^AVe 
are deadly dull, so please don’t expect amuse- 
ment.” I like quiet, thank you,” can be ren- 
dered by “ I have nowhere else to go, at present.” 

AVill you have a fire in your room? ” in winter 
is superfluous, and can only mean gratuitous cru- 
elty, or a dearth of housemaids. To reply I 
don’t feel the cold, thank you,” proclaims the 
poor relation who has learnt to put up with every- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M^NAB 33 


thing. There are so many other formulae that 
a printed code with proper translations should be 
made and hung in guest-chambers. 

Have you any letters you would like to write 
before lunch? ” said Lady Anne, “ our post leaves 
at three o’clock.” 

Ho, thank you,” said Christina, I thought 
I would not write to Colin until there is more 
to say.” 

Lady Anne flushed all over her dear face. 

We are hoping to have some friends down here 
to stay with us soon, but Dick and I thought that 
perhaps you would rather be alone with us at flrst, 
until you began to know us better and feel at 
home.” 

So I would,” said Christina, “ I think you 
get the tone better; ” and she added, “ then I think 
I will go and write to Colin now.” 

She went upstairs to her own pretty sitting- 
room with its books and pictures, and its deep 
oriel window overlooking the finely-timbered park, 
and here she took her pen and wrote: — 

Deae Colin, — It is just awful being with 
grand folk, and they have no sense at all. Mr. 
Drummond is that English you would hardly un- 
derstand what he says, and he has no reserve at 
all, and yet there is something so stand-offish too, 
that you don’t know what to do with him. Lady 
Anne is just the same, for all she is so sweet; you 
just feel all the time that she is trying not to let 


34 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


you know that there is any difference between 
you, and that makes it worse. I’ll never get the 
tone, I am afraid — mix with them how I like. 

“ They think I ought to have a maid, and I 
don’t know what besides; you might send Jessie. 
I think third class would do, and she can sleep at 
her sister’s in London. They have a cousin — a 
most godless man — Mr. Drummond told such 
stories last night, and all about Presbyterian min- 
isters, and rubbish that they never said in their 
sermons! Mr. Drummond wanted the cousin to 
sing comic songs in the drawing-room after dinner, 
and said to me, ‘ Do you mind. Miss M^Hab? ’ and 
I said I did not think they were the thing for 
the drawing-room, so he gave over. Talk about 
their poverty! I never saw such sinful waste in 
all my life! They are just spendthrifts in some 
ways, and near in others. I think Mr. Drummond 
sells horses, which is most ungentleman-like; he 
said he ^ made the gees pay a bit.’ I hope he is 
honest. 

“The cousin they call John is a cripple; he 
should be thinking of serious things, but, indeed, 
there is never a word of sense spoken. You might 
have warned me about a maid — you, that is full 
of knowledge of the aristocracy; it was just awful 
at the station. Tell Jessie to bring me another 
trunk as large as she can get; she can put some 
of her own things into it to fill it. I’ll be real ' 
glad to have her, and there is a grand room for her 
quite near my own. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M^NAB 35 


England is very dull and fearfully wicked, 
there is not a body you can trust, and I lost a 
shilling in the hotel in London, — Your alfection- 
ate friend, Christina M^ETab.’’ 

This letter Christina immediately tore up into 
little pieces, and taking another sheet of superfine 
note paper, she began — 

Dear Mr. M^Crae, — I arrived here quite 
safely last night, and was met by a carriage and 
pair, and a cart for my luggage. Please send my 
maid to me and ask her to buy and bring with 
her a new trunk, as I find I have not enough. 
(Jessie can’t read, so there is no use writing to 
her.) Lady Anne is most agreeable and charm- 
ing, and 1 am made quite one of the family. My 
suite of rooms is elegant and commodious. I must 
now stop as the luncheon gong has sounded, and 
although we all think that lunch is a moveable 
feast, and come down when we like, I think I 
shall now join the family. 

AYith kind regards, and hoping you get on 
well with your work, — Yours truly, 

Christina M^IQ’ab.” 

“ Poor lassie, poor lassie,” said Colin, smiling, 
“ she is near heart-broken with homesickness, and 
the strangeness of it all! But she will get on,” 
he added proudly, I have no doubt of Christina, 
and I am real pleased with this fine letter she 
has wrote.” 


CHAPTEK III 


The next day was Sunday, and Lady Anne 
asked Christina if she would like to go to church. 

Oh, certainly,’’ said Christina, “ I am going 
to be Episcopal now.” This showed a great ad- 
vance on Christina’s part — a shaking off of old 
trammels, and a distinct lift into higher circles 
and a more aristocratic life. 

In Inmboro’ we consider that the English 
Church savours of Popery and the theatre. Papas 
think their flock are better and safer in the Pres- 
byterian fold, and it is a fearful thing, and shows 
discontent with your station in life, if you attend 
the Episcopalian Communion. 

St. Margaret’s Church is aristocratic, English 
— perhaps slightly frivolous — and when you first 
assert your independence, and break away from 
Mamma and Papa, and the Church Hymnal, it 
is a test of your strength of character if you can 
walk up the middle aisle of Inmboro’s chief Epis- 
copal Church without making a dash for your 
seat, or edging to the right hand or to the left 
to get the protection which is afforded by creeping 
along near the pews. A young man, surely, will 
hardly refrain from biting his moustache as he 
36 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 37 


follows the verger along that strip of cocoa-nut 
matting, while a young lady — in all the shyness 
that a strange and doubtful proceeding involves 
— will settle the hair-pins in her back plaits, or 
twitch nervously at her veil. 

Evening service at St. Margaret’s, with Colin, 
was one of the first liberties that Christina had 
allowed herself; and she had felt a thrill of sin- 
ful excitement at the fact of worshipping by gas- 
light at seven o’clock! 

Father always forbade it,” she whispered to 
Colin at the door. 

Hoots ! you must have some amusement,” 
Colin had replied, and it is not expensive.” 

To forsake entirely the Church of her father 
and forefathers was now Christina’s fixed and am- 
bitious intention, and she dressed for the morning 
service at the village church with a pleasurable 
thrill of excitement. But the walk to Hoeford 
in the pouring rain was damping in more senses 
than one, and Christina thought the country a 
very comfortless place, and longed for a tram- 
way car. Mr. Drummond looked depressed. He 
walked, as he talked, in jerks, and picked his way 
along the muddy lanes with his trousers turned 
up very high, and a distraught expression upon 
his whimsical, colourless face. Joan, the child, 
bobbed along with dancing curls and very short 
frocks, turning round at intervals to make re- 
marks, and thereby endangering the safety of 
every one’s eyes with her umbrella. 


38 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


I think it is very good of us to go to church 
on a day like this/’ she remarked, whisking round 
and sending a shower of rain-drops on to Chris- 
tina’s crape. 

“ It is particularly good of me,” said her father, 
for I consider it wrong.” 

“Mr. Weeks has got a cold,” hazarded Joan; 
“ I do hope we shall have the curate only; he 
goes so fast.” 

“ It is Mr. Weeks’ turn for a cold,” said Mr. 
Drummond in a dejected sort of way. “ I have 
never known the entire family of Weeks to be 
free from catarrh.” 

They entered the churchyard through a lych- 
gate, and walked past dripping moss-green grave- 
stones to the porch. Mr. Drummond shook his 
umbrella, and turned down the collar of his 
coat. “ Sit near me,” he whispered to Chris- 
tina, “ I don’t feel good, and Anne has got to 
play the organ to-day.” He caught his wife’s 
hand as she was passing through a side-door 
to the organ-loft. “Wave your hand to me 
over the curtain sometimes,” he whispered, 
“old Weeks is going fo preach, and I am so 
unhappy.” 

Christina unpinned her skirts which she had 
held carefully out of the wet, and paused in the 
aisle; “Would you kindly tell me which is your 
jiew? ” she asked. 

“ Loose-box on the left,” said Mr. Drummond, 
in a loud voice. “ Count how many servants there 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 39 


are in the pew behind you; I’m not supposed to 
look round.” 

The little church was sparsely filled, and smelt 
unpleasantly damp and mouldy. “Not mould; 
my ancestors,” said Mr. Drummond, detecting a 
little sniff from Christina. “ ^ Useless when alive; 
dangerous when dead,’ that’s the epitaph I in- 
vented for ’em ! ” 

Joan gave a suppressed giggle, hut Christina’s 
sense of decorum rose superior to humour. “ Not 
that one can feel releegious in an English church,” 
she was saying to herself, “ but it’s not genteel 
to laugh.” 

She looked about her furtively ; the walls were 
covered with damp-stains and monuments of the 
Drummond family, and over her head on the wall, 
in front of the huge square pew, there were some 
tattered regimental colours, and a suit of mail. 
“ That tin suit was found in the moat,” said Mr. 
Drummond, following the direction of Christina’s 
eyes. Christina drew down her veil, and inclined 
her head stiffly. 

Mr. Drummond’s depression seemed to in- 
crease. His eyebrows were raised higher than 
usual, and almost seemed to have disappeared in 
his sandy hair. He kept fidgetting about to try 
and see the red curtains of the organ loft; and 
presently, before the service began, Anne Drum- 
mond drew a corner of the baize aside, and smiled 
down upon her husband. “ Bless her,” murmured 
Dick. The curtain was redrawn and the Yolun- 


40 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


tary was played with much taste and sweetness. 
A score of little boys in surplices of doubtful 
cleanliness, and a variety of knickerbockers, stock- 
ings, and muddy boots showing beneath on their 
uncassocked legs, shuffled noisily out of the vestry, 
their rear being brought up by the vicar with a 
cold in his head, and a tall lank curate, black- 
haired, and reported High.’’ 

Directly the service began Mr. Drummond un- 
fastened his watch from its chain, and laid it on 
the table in the middle of the pew. The curate 
began reading with extraordinary rapidity, but 
the vicar dropped his words one by ‘one in a hope- 
lessly melancholy way. Oh,” groaned Mr. 
Drummond, if he would only have a good cry, 
and be done with it! ” The choir-boys fidgetted 
and ate sweets in an audible, succulent manner, 
and the singing was as bad and as careless as it 
usually is in village churches. The women serv- 
ants and village girls criticised each other’s hats, 
and the men slept. Only up in the organ loft 
Anne Drummond’s face seemed filled with a 
light such as did not shine on other faces, and 
her playing of the simple chants conveyed a 
sense of holiness which the rest of the service 
lacked. 

“We talk the Psalms now,” whispered Mr. 
Drummond, who was accommodating in giving 
information all through the service, “ choir-boys 
won’t come to choir-practice; choir-practice wants 
organist; organist wants his fire at night; so the 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 41 


pig won’t get over the stile, and so on — you know 
the rest, Miss M^^^'ab! ” 

Christina lost her way several times in her 
prayer-book, and was relieved when it came to 
sermon time. She prayed with a handkerchief 
held to her face in a black-gloved hand. “ Part 
of the ritual of the Scot,” murmured Dickie, “ it 
used to puzzle me at first in the north.” Mr. 
Drummond kept a keen eye upon his watch, and 
began to click the cover of it with a snap, as soon 
as the hands pointed to 12.15. Snap, snap went 
the spring of the watch-case, and poor Mr. Weeks 
began to speak with a sort of melancholy irrita- 
tion. The curate sat biting his nails, and the 
choir-boys played little games of their own. The 
discourse ended lamely, and Mr. Drummond bus- 
tled out of the pew to collect the offertory. This 
was the only part of the service that he really 
enjoyed, and he took the keenest interest in the 
amount offered by each person in the congrega- 
tion. 

The High ” curate always returned to Pop- 
lar’s to lunch, and in the afternoon he and his 
host began to play billiards. Christina, scandal- 
ised, fled in haste to the morning-room, only to 
find Lady Anne sitting by John Churchill’s couch 
— he being ill to-day — and playing chess with him. 
“ Where have I got to,” Christina said to herself, 
retreating upstairs to her room, this is an awful 
house! ” 

She opened her Bible and read it resolutely. 


42 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


keeping an attentive ear open to any sound of 
carnal levity that should be heard about the house. 
Presently she heard the door of the billiard-room 
open, followed by the burst of conversation that 
heralded all Mr. Drummond’s movements, remind- 
ing one somewhat of the rush and noisy delight 
of a dog let loose. 

“ You gave me a regular good licking; bravo 
the church, I say! Hi, Joan, Joan! where is the 
child? You see, you High-church parsons, you 
never eat anything, and you never drink anything, 
and that is why your hands are so steady. Joan, 
get on your boots this minute, and come for a 
walk! Ask Miss M^Nab to come too. Hang it! 
we must try and be nice to a guest, and she may 
like to see the mokes. Run along.” 

A flying chase brought both these irrepressi- 
ble persons to Christina’s door, and then there 
seemed to be a moment’s pause for composure. 
Then Joan knocked demurely, and said, “ Papa’s 
love (Mr. Drummond’s flying feet could be heard 
taking him headlong down the staircase), Papa’s 
love, and will you care to come out for a walk, 
and see the horses and the pigs? ” 

Christina said, Ho, thank you”; and Joan 
flung both her arms round her neck, and said, 
“You sweet thing, do come! ” This was a little 
embarrassing to our undemonstrative friend, who 
blushed slightly, and said, “ Hoots, give over.” 

“ I like you so much,” Joan proceeded, scram- 
bling on to Christina’s knee; and she continued, 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 43 


“ I mean often to come np here and sit with you. 
It’s rather a relief getting away from papa some- 
times, when he is fussy. I shall come and sleep 
with you sometimes, and you can tell me stories. 
Do you ever have funny dreams? I do. I dreamt 
last night that nurse’s uncle stood in the middle 
of our paddock and held the moon in a saucer. 
Do you ever dream things like that? How old 
are you? I should think about forty, but you 
never can tell. May I stretch all your new gloves 
before you put them on? it is the thing I like 
doing best.” 

Christina checked the flow of conversation by 
remarking that little girls should be seen and not 
heard.” At which wise old saw the modern child 
screamed with delighted laughter, called Christina 
too sweet and dear for anything,” and jumping 
down from her knee went to prepare for her 
walk. 

“ What a chatter,” soliloquized, when left to 
herself, the lady of Scottish blood and few words, 
I wonder their tongues don’t tire, but I suppose 
everything depends upon what you are used to. 
That’s a queer-like child, and a little daft, I am 
afraid, like her poor father.” 

Her head drooped over her big Bible, and the 
heavy calm white lids closed on sleepy eyes, and 
Christina slept till tea-time. 

When the little party assembled for tea in the 
great oak hall which was one of the chief beauties 
of the house, John Churchill said to Christina, 
4 


44 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


You liave been sleeping over a good book/’ 
Christina considered Mr. Churchill a most dis- 
agreeable man. His position in the house puz- 
zled her a good deal. AVhy did John Churchill 
live there? Why was he lame? Why was it that 
everything he said was greeted with laughter and 
applause? Why was it so frequently suggested 
that he should sing one of his ripping comic songs, 
whereas he never sang? To the ordinary ob- 
server, Mr. Churchill appeared to be a sad man; 
but poor Dickie (perhaps it was part of his daft- 
ness) seemed to pass his time in describing to his 
friends with almost pathetic emphasis how John 
was a very devil of a fellow. A day’s outing with 
old John! Tells a better story than any chap I 
know 1 And ride ! why, of course, he does not ride 
at present, poor old man; but we’ll be getting him 
into the saddle again some of these days. And 
ride! why, of course, every one knew he was the 
best gentleman rider of the day! Mr. Drum- 
mond’s wildest and most improbable, nay, his most 
risky stories were told by him, and then ascribed 
to old John over there,” who looks so good, and 
is so bad, you know. Good old John; the best 
fellow that ever walked! And so on, in his usual 
rambling fashion. 

Christina wanted to tell Mr. Churchill that she 
thought playing chess was a very much worse em- 
ployment for the Sabbath than sleeping. But 
John’s still, melancholy face, with the humour 
about it which seemed like the shadow of some 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 45 


bygone mirthfiilness, always restrained the girl, 
and as she said to herself, “ There was no one in 
the house who was more difficult to chat freely 
to.’^ He limped across the hearth-rug now, and 
handed her a plate of cake from the large well- 
filled table by the fire of logs. The action was 
performed with the quiet matter-of-fact courtesy 
which seemed to distinguish these daft folk from 
Christina’s former friends, and the girl was always 
silenced, irritated, made bashful by it, so that 
to-day she muttered to herself, You cannot give 
them insolence ; that’s the mischief of it. I would 
have stood up to Colin or the Assistant for half 
that smile he gave me about sleeping, but then, 
they wouldn’t have handed me cake with such 
an air.” 

“ John and I have been laying plots and plans 
this afternoon,” said Lady Anne, turning towards 
Christina, and speaking in her kind way to the girl. 
We have been thinking that we ought to ask 
some people down here after Christmas. Is that 
a good scheme, Dickie? ” smiling at her husband. 

Dick Drummond began to speak — bit his nails 
in an agony: My dear Anne!” he said, my 
dear Anne ! ” and relieved his feelings by making 
a plunge at the log-basket, and piling wood upon 
the fire. 

^nne raised her gentle brows in white wrinkles 
of perplexity, but John had begun to smile quietly. 

I think,” he said in his slow voice, Dickie is 
wondering about wall-papers.” 


46 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

Dick looked gratefully at him, and said, “ Yes, 
ah, wall-papers, you know,’’ and smiled foolishly. 

Perhaps he thinks he is a wall-paper,” said 
Christina to herself, “ I have heard of sad cases 
of that sort.” 

Anne was being decoyed by elaborate excuses 
“to come and look at something awfully funny 
in the gun-room.” And once there, her husband 
closed the door with a fine and tragic gesture, 
leaning against it afterwards, and demanding in 
a tone of keen excitement “ whether any one as 
pretty as Christina was to be trusted; in fact, not 
to put too fine a point on to it, would Christina 
pay up?” 

“ I’ve been reckless about the wall-papers,” 
Mr. Drummond said, “ hut, ’pon my soul, I should 
not wonder if this fortune of hers is an hallucina- 
tion or something of that sort. I have always 
thought she was touched — always; and I believe 
we ought to have asked — like tradespeople — for 
a month’s payment in advance. There’s the phone, 
you know,” he said, “ a thing I ought never to 
have touched, unless we Avere quite certain of 
being paid. I do enjoy speaking through it, but 
the future looks black — very black.” He gazed 
in a despairing way into some imaginary space of 
deepest gloom : “ I have a wife and child to con- 
sider, and not even the Avall-papers can he ^aid 
for unless Miss M^Yab pays up.” 

“ I think it is all right,” said Lady Anne, 
smiling, “ if her fortune is an hallucination, it is 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 47 


shared, at least, with my cousin, who spoke to 
me about her.’’ 

“True, true; unless,” brilliantly, “it is a plot 
got up between ’em. We must learn firmness in 
business matters, Anne, I feel that. But, after 
all, let’s have the house-party, and give the poor 
girl a good time if we can.” 


CHAPTEK lY 


To gentle Anne Drummond of the calm brows 
• — a shy woman, in spite of a certain regal air 
of which she was quite unconscious — the thought 
of a house-party was always fraught with an un- 
expressed, but deeply-felt dismay. Dickie lost his 
head when guests were in the house, and Joan 
became a wild and unmanageable sprite; while 
John seldom appeared at all, -but would sit in his 
own rooms pleading invalidism, and only bright- 
ened by a visit from her. 

She wrote her notes heroically the next morn- 
ing, while Dick hung about her making sugges- 
tions. Southwark must come, of course. If the 
tubes and the money and all that were really a 
dead certainty, then their own people ought to 
have the first chance, so to speak — well, well, 
then — the first introduction to Christina M^hTab. 
Hang it! there was no engagement between him 
and Muriel Stonor, and even if there had been 
it was no use their thinking of matrimony, when 
between them they had not two sixpences to jingle 
against a tombstone. And after all, Southwark 
was a duke even if he were also a pauper, and a 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 49 


girl whose father made tubes would be sure to 
like to marry a duke. Certainly, Southwark must 
be asked. Then, there was Pat Rivers: good old 
Pat, one of the best! And Bunkins would make 
them all roar. And Flossie This and Tilly That 
— under Dick^s guidance the house-party was as- 
suming immense proportions. 

Anne, with her pen poised between her fingers, 
laughed, and cried, “ Hold, enough ! or a new 
wing would have to be added to the house, and 
a new staff of servants engaged.’’ 

But Dick’s hospitality, like all his qualities, 
bad and good, was apt, when once started, to run 
to extremes. He found a place in his mind’s 
eye ” as he expressed it, for every one. Georgie 
could have this room, and Evan that. Girls do 
not mind ^ doubling up,’ and certain of the dress- 
ing-rooms could serve for bedrooms. Ho, he 
thought it would hardly do to make two bites of 
a cherry, and divide their guests into two parties. 
Coal had to be thought of, lamp-oil, and such like 
items, which ran away with a lot of money; and 
the same lights, for instance, would serve for 
twenty people, as for ten.” 

I take all trouble off Anne’s hands,” he con- 
fided to Christina, when he took her for a walk 
that afternoon. I arrange things, and see about 
where people are to sleep, and all that. It saves 
her a lot of worry, and I think of little economies 
which never occur to her.” 

The most frugal Scot will never make mention 


50 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


of liis thrift, and shows it only in actions, and 
never in words. And Christina, who thought that 
the lamp-oil should not have been mentioned, 
looked contemptuous, but said nothing. She and 
her host were taking their usual muddy after- 
noon’s tramp, Mr. Drummond having decided in 
his own mind that it was part of the contract that 
his guest should be entertained, and that local 
gossip and wet fields were after all the best that 
he could offer her, at present. Christina’s habit- 
ual taciturnity gave him fine scope for his con- 
versational powers, and, at the same time, enabled 
him to feel a high sense of satisfaction with his 
own conduct, and his devotion to duty. This after- 
noon they were the bearers of a note from Anne 
to the vicar’s wife about the blanket club, and this 
gave them the opportunity of walking through 
the village, “ a cheerful promenade ” as Mr. 
Drummond called it, and one which gave him the 
opportunity of conversing with his fellow men. 

“ The people like it,” he explained to Chris- 
tina, having apologised for the fifth or sixth time 
for stopping to speak to some one in the village 
street, if it is only ^ How do you do ? ’ and ^ A 
pleasant day! ’ But I always say, stop for a bit 
and shake hands. After all, we’re not oysters to 
open our mouths only at dinner-time.” 

As he spoke, he hailed the vicar who was dis- 
appearing into the stationei’s shop, with a “Hal- 
loa, Weeks! what’s the news to-day?” 

Mr. Weeks turned round in the doorway, and 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 51 


shook hands. “ I believe there is never any news 
in Hoeford — at least, of a cheerful kind,’’ he re- 
plied in his tearful way. “ There is a Penny 
Beading this evening which my wife thinks will 
be a success, but I, myself, have grave doubts on 
the subject. Still, we shall be very glad if you^ 
or any of your party” — he looked at Christina, 
who was then introduced — “ will come to it.” 

Mr. Drummond was delighted : “ I think we 
had better go, eh? ” he said to Christina, “ it pro- 
vokes a kindly feeling, don’t you think so? And 
I think these village entertainments are always 
rather amusing, myself. We shall have to dine 
early; but I think these little changes in routine 
are rather pleasant, and I have got a capital pair 
of new water-proof boots, which I am rather anx- 
ious to try.” His head was full of the scheme at 
once, and he bought tickets and stowed them in 
his pocket-book in a business-like manner, and with 
an air of keen enjoyment. 

The vicar had remained poised, as it were, on 
one leg during this conversation, in an attitude 
of flight. But Mr. Drummond was delightfully 
oblivious of the fact that any one could possibly 
want to move on without having first had a little 
conversation. 

Children all well,” he asked, colds better? 
You exceeded your time by five minutes last Sun- 
day, Weeks; but it w«as a ripping good sermon 
that,” he added, with his characteristic kindliness, 
which never sought to base itself upon facts, but 


62 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


consisted only in making things pleasant all 
round/^ as he himself expressed it. And how 
is the Missus? By Jove! we have a note for your 
Missus, I believe.’^ 

Mr. Weeks (still tip-toed for flight) offered to 
be the bearer of the missive, but Mr. Drummond 
could not entertain the suggestion for a minute. 
He walked on hastily with Christina, and confided 
to her in an explanatory sort of way — “ I like Mrs. 
Weeks, you know; she runs at you rather, but 
she’s a good sort, all the same. Anne finds her a 
little oppressive, but what I say is, if you live in 
the town, you choose your friends, but if you live 
in the country, they choose you, and you had far 
better make the best of them.” 

When they reached the vicarage door, Mr. 
Drummond rang the bell, and the summons had 
hardly died away before Mrs. Weeks herself ap- 
peared in the passage, and rushed towards them 
with an effusion of welcome which explained Mr. 
Drummond’s somewhat vague term that she ran 
at you rather.” 

“ Come in, come ! ” she cried, taking a hand 
of each in hers; and leading the way onwards 
she twisted round chairs in the drawing-room with 
a profuseness of welcome, and gurgled forth in- 
articulate sounds of pleasure during each pause 
in the conversation. 

Do sit down; near the fire, or from it? This 
is splendid! ” She beat up a silken cushion here, 
and arranged an antimacassar there, poked the fire 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 53 


vigorously, and then sat down with an air of eager 
anticipation which gave one the uneasy feeling 
that one’s most brilliant efforts of conversation 
could not but disappoint her expectations. 

Mrs. Weeks was a large, fair, handsome wom- 
an, with a face which nature had intended to be 
mild and impassive, nay, possibly in its own way it 
might have been dignified and charming, but Mrs. 
Weeks had decided to be bright, and she always 
was bright. Christina, in her judicial way, at once 
found the reason for Mr. Weeks’ habitual melan- 
choly. Mrs. Weeks had never been known to have 
a dull time — even in this dullest of shires. There 
was always something going on, she affirmed; and 
even when the point was pressed, and she was 
obliged to admit that this something ” might 
only have been a Parish Meeting, or a Missionary 
Tea, Mrs. Weeks called everything an entertain- 
ment,” and most things (condescending to a sort 
of elephantine attempt at slang) too ripping for 
anything.” She began to describe the Parish 
Council Meeting which had taken place last night: 

You ought to have been there, Mr. Drum- 
mond; you would nearly have died. Oh, if only 
one had the pen of George Eliot! There was old 
Stephen, don’t you know, with his red scarf; such 
a character. And Mills at the Bull Inn. Miss 
M^Yab, you must know old Mills; we will go and 
see him together, some day, you and I : how you’d 
scream! And old John Piper, with his hob-nailed 
boots; I always want to put him in a book. Oh, 


54 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


and there were a dozen others, all sitting round, 
don’t you know, and making suggestions. Willie 
allowed me to look on and listen, and I would 
not have missed it for anything.” 

Her description of the scene was not fraught 
with any humorous suggestion, but Mrs. Weeks 
had made up her mind — being led thereto by vari- 
ous popular books on the subject — that village 
life was full of entertainment, and it did not 
even vaguely suggest itself to her mind that the 
humour of that entertainment did indeed require 
the pen of a George Eliot to convey it to others. 
Mrs. Weeks’ hearers, those, that is to say, who 
did not know her, generally found themselves 
waiting in a state of eager anticipation for some 
points of humour, some drollery which she seemed 
to see so plainly, but which she was evidently in- 
capable of sharing. “ There was the great fire 
in the centre of the room,” she said, “ and the 
men’s eager faces — I assure you it was quite Rem- 
brandtesque! And some of the speeches were too 
quaint.” 

Her enjoyment in her recital was not partici- 
pated in to any great extent. Even Dick’s chatter 
was silenced, and Christina’s grave face at last 
provoked the playful remark, “Miss M^Hab, you 
are one of the nation who have no sense of hu- 
mour.” 

The remark is one which never fails to arouse 
the anger of a Scot. “ That judgment,” said 
Christina, “was first pronounced by an English- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 55 


man, who had made a very stupid joke, which no 
one could see/’ 

Mr. Drummond began a burst of laughter, 
which he strangled immediately when he saw that 
no sarcasm was intended. But he could be seen 
repeating the remark to himself with a chuckle 
several times during tea-time, in order that he 
might remember it to tell to Anne. 

Mrs. Weeks was delighted to hear that the 
Drummonds and their party were coming to the 
Penny Reading. “ I do like it when the front 
benches are filled,” she said; and it was evident 
that her bright imagination had already pictured 
quite a brilliant audience in the Parish Hall. I 
did not mean to wear my best frock, but I shall 
now,” she whispered to Christina, in a delighted 
aside. 

I’m afraid it is just me that is the party,” re- 
plied Christina with her most aggressive truth- 
fulness. 

‘‘Well, well, you are a party, surely, a host 
in yourself,” said Mrs. Weeks, a little tone of dis- 
appointment showing itself in her voice. She was 
quite satisfied that only three persons should come 
from Poplar’s Court, but she disliked this prosaic 
way of keeping to bare facts, and preferred her 
imaginary crowned heads in the boxes. 

The children presently trooped in to tea, which 
was laid on a large table in the dining-room. They 
were a healthy, handsome lot of children, but it 
would seem as if the whole household of Weeks 


66 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


had been stricken dumb by the mother’s volubil- 
ity. There was silence all round the table, save 
behind the tea-tray — except in the middle of the 
meal, when each child solemnly handed in its tea- 
cup with the formula, Bay I have a little bore 
tea, Babbah?” Mr. Drummond’s account of the 
universal catarrh indulged in by the Weeks’ was 
no fabrication, and so omnipresent was the family 
complaint that it seemed it was reckoned with in 
the scheme of the young Weeks’ clothing. Each 
child wore a piece of flannel stitched into the top 
of its dress or jacket, showing a rim of the mate- 
rial at the neck. And each had a large pocket- 
handkerchief carefully sewn by the corner into 
each little pocket. It puzzled Christina at first to 
see each little Weeks turn its head and bend down 
as though to plunge beneath the table, until she 
discovered by watching the child sitting next her, 
that no pocket-handkerchief was of sufficient 
length to reach the troublesome noses of the 
Weeks’ unless they, as it were, went half-way to 
meet it. There was a large bottle of cough mix- 
ture on the side-board, and seven pairs of goloshes 
in the hall. 

Mr. Weeks’ cough — the tribal war-cry of the 
Weeks’ — was heard in the hall; and Mr. Weeks, 
having unwound himself from many scarves, came 
in and took a chair by the side of Christina. 

“ Here we are, all together,” exclaimed Mrs. 
Weeks, beaming delightedly round her silent fam- 
ily, do call this jolly! ” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 57 


“ Very damp/’ was Mr. Weeks’ sole comment, 
made in politely attending to Miss M^N^ab. 

Damp, you dear old goose,” cried his lady, 
why, the sun was shining quite brightly this 
morning. Did you see the hounds pass through 
Mudthorpe this afternoon? It was magnificent! 
Don’t you love a meet. Miss M^Nab? We must 
go to one together some day. I have got a dear 
little cart and a ripping pony; and you can’t think 
what a pretty sight a meet is, especially when it is 
in some of our dear, picturesque old villages round 
about here. I felt as though I must follow this 
afternoon when I saw them. There were the 
hounds, with their heads down, and the huntsmen, 
don’t you know, and all that; the children and I 
got quite excited.” 

It was difficult to think of any of the Weeks 
children being excited; and one stolid-faced boy 
remarked in a tone of severe reproof, “ I did not 
get excited, Babbah.” 

When the family of Weeks spoke at all it was 
to contradict Mrs. Weeks, while she on her part 
heavily if brightly trod upon all the susceptibil- 
ities of her family — playfully brushed aside, as it 
were, the very few observations that they ever 
made, and ruled with a smiling despotism her hus- 
band, her children, and even the church. His 
comment upon the weather having been annihi- 
lated, Mr. Weeks seemed crushed, and blew his 
nose sadly in solemn requiem for a remark that 
had been overlaid while still so small and harm- 


68 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


less. Christina thought it was damp, and said 
nothing. 

She was feeling the general oppression caused 
by Mrs. Weeks, and would have liked to go home. 
But it was almost impossible to persuade Dickie 
to leave any gathering, however small. He 
seemed to experience a difficulty in quitting an 
assembly, and even when his good-byes ” were 
spoken, would often linger chatting till the for- 
mality of shaking hands had to be again under- 
gone. So having finished her tea, and finding that 
no remarks were expected from her, she leant back 
in her chair, and contemplated life as it presented 
itself to her from her present standpoint. How 
dull it was! How dull the damp fields were, and 
the cold church on Sundays, and this dull country 
Vicarage! How dull the simple retired village 
was, with its red roofs, its sleepy farmhouses, its 
muddy bye-lanes where only farm waggons 
crawled slowly along between bare hedges, the 
wheels taking the same track year after year, 
while the driver nodded drowsily, knowing that 
the sleepy team knew their way as well as he did! 
How dull Popples was, with its evenings, spent 
in the billiard-room, while Anne Drumrnond 
worked, Dick knocked the balls about, and Mr. 
Churchill limped round the table playing a more 
careful game! Perhaps all aristocratic people 
were dull; perhaps that was what being aristo- 
cratic meant! The neighbouring country houses 
to which Anne had driven her to pay calls were 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 59 


every bit as dull as the one in which she was a 
guest. Christina had not been brought up to play 
the piano, nor to do fancy work. She had made 
her own clothes, had done half the housework, 
and had walked out with Colin M^Crae. The busy 
mercantile world of Inmboro’ had been full of in- 
terest to her. There, everybody had been busy; 
every one’s day was full from an early breakfast 
till a late and often tired good-night.” Men 
had walked along the busy streets glancing at their 
watches from time to time. Leisure, when it did 
come, was enjoyed with as much intelligence, al- 
most — if one might say so — with as much brisk- 
ness, as work. A good cheap concert, for which 
the day’s work had to furnish the entrance fee, 
was enjoyed with real appreciation to the last 
note. A bicycle ride into the country was a keen 
and vivid pleasure, and always had some definite 
object in view. ~No one ever rode a little way out, 
and came back again. ISTo one made those aimless 
wanderings to get exercise. Death only seemed 
to come when a man had done his work, and was 
thoroughly and honourably tired out. Ladies had 
hastened into town, in tramway cars, to do their 
shopping, clad in the sealskin jacket of success- 
ful commerce, and with the stout purse of re- 
spectability firmly grasped in their hands; no 
one dawdled, and few loitered at shop windows: 
every one walked as though hastening to some 
definite goal. 

Here in the Drummonds’ big country house, 


60 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


with its acres of peaceful park land about it, its 
gardens, its browsing sheep, its grey clear skies, 
there never seemed any manner of reason why 
the duty or the work of to-day should not be put 
oif till to-morrow, till next week, or for ever. 
Breakfast was at nine — “ a liberal nine,’’ as Dickie 
expressed it — and it really did not matter whether 
you came down at that hour or at ten or eleven 
o’clock. The breakfast was still hot, and it merely 
meant that you took the dogs for a run a little 
later, or that you wrote to the “ Stores ” when it 
was nearer to lunch-time than usual. Every one 
wrote to the “ Stores.” Every one talked about 
dogs — there seemed little else to talk about. 
There were writing-tables, three or four of them 
in every room, and in the hall and ante-room. 
People seemed to write notes unendingly, but 
Christina fancied that they were always to the 
Stores.” If any one seemed in a hurry — which 
was not often — it Was when they returned from 
some unnecessary walk, and hastily flung ofl their 
gloves to write to the 8 taws . If you went for 
a walk in the morning, it meant having to change 
muddy boots and muddy skirts at one o’clock. And 
when this dry and comfortable state of things had 
been attained, it generally seemed to be understood 
that you were expected to go out and get wet and 
muddy again until tea-time. Between tea and din- 
ner there was a London evening paper to read, and 
the gentlemen disappeared to the smoking-room; 
after dinner they played billiards, while Anne and 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 61 


Christina worked. They all seemed quite happy. 
It gave Anne untold pleasure to get so many com- 
forters or flannel petticoats for the poor flnished 
by Christmas time, while neither she nor Mr. 
Drummond ever cared to leave their home. Dick 
“ looked after the place,’’ he said. His own den 
was hung with county maps, and contained a direc- 
tory, the Stores list, and Burke’s County Families. 
His library consisted of Mr. Sponge’s Sporting 
Tour and its brother volumes, “ the Badminton 
Series,” and a railway time-table. Here he inter- 
viewed his bailiff, enjoyed his own volubility, and 
wasted many hours of his servant’s time. He rode 
but little, and yet spent much time in his stables, 
often carrying his conversation with his coachman 
far into the afternoon. He had his small econo- 
mies, which were a constant interest to him; and 
Anne did a little mild housekeeping, and worked 
for the parish. And then they were English, and 
little things seemed to please English people. But 
the daughter of a busy, middle-class Scottish mer- 
chant, who had mended her father’s socks, and 
had done the daily marketing with a bag upon 
her arm, felt as though she were living in some 
exhausted atmosphere, and wanted some one to 
open the window! Why were all novels so mis- 
leading? Why had they talked of life in a fine 
old English country-house as if it were the summit 
of human enjoyment? Did no one know that it 
consisted mostly in taking the dogs for a run, and 
writing to the Stores ” ? Of course no novel 


62 THE FORTUNE OF • CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


would sell if the truth were known, and perhaps 
that was the reason why they all lied so freely. 
Novels were very like Mrs. Weeks, they depicted 
things with a false light upon them, and the grey 
reality was made a little ridiculous in the artificial 
glare. Christina thought that it must be persons 
exactly like Mrs. Weeks who wrote novels. 

It is going to be such a good performance 
to-night,’’ she heard her saying to Mr. Drum- 
mond, when at last he rose to say Good-bye.” 

“ Have been trying to catch your eye for the 
last half-hour,” he whispered to Christina. I 
did not know whether you ought to make the 
move or I; but perhaps we had better be going, 
as we are coming back for the Penny Heading 
to-night. It is very lucky that we called at the 
Vicarage this afternoon,” he continued, as they 
walked down the little drive, otherwise we might 
not have heard of this ^ gaff ’ at all. It would 
have been very nice,” he said later, if they had 
asked us in afterwards to supper; but, perhaps, 
Mrs. Weeks did not think of it. I wonder if I 
could get Anne to suggest that we should go in 
for a bit. Anne is rather diffident about “such 
things, but it would be amusing for you, and it 
is a pleasant house to go to.” 

The brougham was ordered for eight o’clock, 
and dinner was put forward, giving Mr. Drum- 
mond time to write “ only a few notes,” which 
he dropped into the letter-box in the hall, de- 
manding them afterwards from the butler, as was 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 63 


liis usual custom, because, as lie was wont to ob- 
serve to that functionary, “ I believe her ladyship 
wrote to such and such a one,’’ or, confidentially, 
I do not believe I need write that letter after 
all; just give it back, Bragg.” 

John Churchill would not go to the village 
entertainment — “ Which means a dead loss of six- 
pence,” Dickie said, “ unless we take Joan. Why 
should not she go; do you mind, Anne?” So 
Joan made a fourth in the brougham. 

Christina had hardly got accustomed to a 
brougham yet, and always enjoyed going out in 
it at night. The light shed by the lamps on the 
black, bare hedges, the quick trotting of the well- 
matched horses, the clean interior luxuriousness 
of the carriage, and the footman standing at the 
door with the fur rug on his arm, gave her a 
feeling of satisfaction and solid comfort. The big 
landau belonging to the Irbys of Stonecroft, drew 
up before them at the Parish Hall, and Christina 
thought that she would tell Colin that all the 
county was there, but remembered Mrs. Weeks, 
and decided merely to say that she and the Drum- 
monds had driven over in a carriage and pair! 
The little crowd round the doorway delighted her, 
and she felt that she was “ in Society.” She fol- 
lowed Lady Anne to a front seat, while Mrs. 
Weeks waved delighted welcomes to them from 
between the curtains of the stage. Mrs. Weeks, 
it need hardly be said, was going to perform at 
the entertainment. The vicar received them in 


64 : THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

liis depressed way, and pointed them to the front 
row of chairs, on which Reserved ” had been 
written in conspicuous black and white. The Irbys 
smiled and nodded at Christina, and began to con- 
verse in a friendly way with her, but Christina 
was grand and distant. She aired a little of her 
knowledge of what was done in the best families, 
spoke with an exalted English accent, and felt that 
in future she would drop Colin M^Crae altogether. 

The entertainment opened with the usual 
pianoforte solo, which stands on every programme 
to drown, if possible, the noise that the entry of 
late comers creates. Fortunately the performance 
was not worthy of any higher office than this, and 
Miss Groves was not accustomed to an attentive 
audience, so the arrangement was suitable from 
every point of view. Christina was hardly aware 
that the Penny Reading had actually begun, and 
whispered to Miss Irby, looking at the pianist, I 
suppose she is just playing herself? ” Miss Irby did 
not understand the Scotch idiom, smiled foolishly, 
and said, I suppose so.” And the Scotchwoman 
wondered how many more stupid people she was 
going to meet! The grocer’s assistant sang, raising 
himself in a professional manner upon his toes 
whenever he attempted to take a high note ; and the 
chemist sang a duet with the lawyer’s niece, who 
showed her knowledge of the difference in their 
respective ranks by standing at the extreme end 
of the platform from the son of pharmacy. A 
beginner played upon the violin; and a reciter 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 65 


tolled Curfew Bells, and besought some one to 
“ shoot this old grey head.’’ 

The hall became very hot and stuffy, and there 
were little rivulets of condensed atmosphere run- 
ning down all the windows. The boys at the back 
of the hall were very noisy; and the girls in the 
twopenny seats were very quiet. The gases flared 
overhead, and the Bible pictures which adorned 
the walls of the Parish Hall (used for Sunday- 
school purposes on Sunday) were decorated with 
wreaths of holly in anticipation of Christmas time. 

Mrs. Weeks was determined to make the thing 
go off well. She could several times be heard 
applauding from behind the curtain, and she now 
appeared in evening dress, but wearing gauntlet 
gloves, a bowler hat, and carrying a whip in her 
hand. The song she had chosen to sing was one 
called The Tin Gee-gee,” and it was evident that 
its equestrian character was subtly suggested by 
Mrs. Weeks’ costume, which she had donned to 
assist the sporting nature of the song. The whip 
was cracked twice before Mrs. Weeks began to 
sing, and while the accompaniment was being 
played, she settled her hat more firmly upon the 
side of her head, looked handsome and matronly, 
and winked in a vulgar way towards the back of 
the hall. Between the verses it became evident 
that Mrs. Weeks had still better things in store 
for a realistic representation of the part she was 
playing. It was not too clear whether she was 
the tin gee-gee ” itself, or the rider of it; for 


66 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


she not only chirruped to an imaginary steed, as 
a cabman does to his horse, but she encouraged 
herself with short flicks of her whip, and pointed 
poutingly at a “ little dolly girl,’’ whose price in 
toyland exceeded her own. The winking contin- 
ued — whether the wink of a horse or of its rider 
was not made evident; but towards the end of the 
song Mrs. Weeks must have decided to adopt the 
role of the lower animal. She made a few gallop- 
ing steps across the uncertain stage, which shook 
beneath her, continued the prancing motion while 
the final chords were being played, and lastly, 
made her bow with her whip held across her knees, 
and her kind, pleasant face beaming under the 
little hat. The enthusiastic portion of the audi- 
ence near the door stamped and shouted their ap- 
plause, and Mrs. Weeks had only time to seize 
her second song which she always held in reserve, 
and place it before the accompanist lest the plaud- 
its should cease before she could give her encore. 

She descended from the platform when the 
second song was ended, and shook hands effusively 
with every one : — It did go off well ! Oh, not 
at all; it’s too kind of you. Yes, I think one 
ought to give people something cheery. After all, 
they come here to be amused.” She scattered 
her - smiles and her thanks amongst the county 
people,” as she would have called them, and then 
sat down beside Anne Drummond, saying, I 
want you all to come back to supper. Do come; 
it will be such fun. Oh, you must not think of 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 67 


going home yet; we have all quite determined 
to make a night of it. Excuse me one minute; 
I must prompt Willie to say a few words of thanks 
to you all. And now I must whip in my pack ’’ 
— the tin gee-gee had completely demoralised Mrs. 
Weeks — and we will all go across to the Vicar- 
age.’’ She led the way through the dripping 
graveyard, conversing all the time : “ Did you no- 
tice those girls in the front row? I was so tickled 
by them. Oh, I must tell you what old Mrs. 
Smith said to me as we came out : ^ Lor, Mum,’ 
she said, ^ it were just beautiful — seemed almost 
like a theeaytrel ’ Wasn’t it killing? I do think 
the remarks these people make are so droll.” 

There were meat sandwiches for supper, and 
cups of Bovril, which Mrs. Weeks called clear 
soup. At this description her children looked 
grave, and commented upon it with their usual 
admonitory Oh, Babbah! ” Mrs. AVeeks was 
making things go oif well ” ; she distributed her 
viands with that air of good-natured philanthropy 
which is unconsciously acquired by those who are 
more accustomed to dispensing food than merely 
helping it. And she ushered her friends across the 
tiny hall of the Vicarage with a parochial This 
way, please.” It puzzled Christina to understand 
why, now that the hour waxed late, and the en- 
tertainment of the evening seemed to be over, 
a series of little games, suggesting the ponder- 
ous jollity of a Choir Supper, should take place. 
She submitted, nevertheless, in her grave fashion. 


68 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


to having her wrists tied together with a piece of 
string, and linked with the string on the wrists 
of stout Mr. Irbj; and she and he twisted their 
arms over each other’s heads, stepped backwards 
and forwards across the cord, and did all that 
was expected of them. 

Mr. Drummond, meanwhile, was delightedly 
holding “ his left arm in his right hand, and his 
right foot in his left hand ” — according to Mrs. 
W eeks’ directions — and in this attitude he endeav- 
oured to lift a cork out of a bottle with his teeth. 
Lady Anne chatted pleasantly to the vicar, who 
seemed to warm under her kindly manner, while 
she held a curious collection of forfeits upon her 
knee to be redeemed afterwards by the antics of 
those who had put them in pledge. 

Christina having now hopelessly entangled 
herself in Mr. Irby’s string, and stepped several 
times into his extended arms, received such a cruel 
blow upon her foot by Mr. Irby’s attempting the 
same gymnastics with her, that she gravely untied 
the string at her wrist and joined a group of the 
stolid, supercilious Weeks children who stood by 
the door : “ Don’t you play these games at all, 
yourselves? ” she asked conversationally of a small 
boy about nine years old. “ hTo,” said the little 
fellow, “ it overheats us, you know, and then we 
get cold; besides, we hate them! ” A shallow- 
faced little girl with grave brown eyes, and a 
hoarse voice, directed Christina’s attention to Mr. 
Drummond’s antics : — A merry little animal 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 69 

that/’ she said in a sepulchral tone, “ but quite 
mad! ” Christina was seized with a sudden fit of 
laughter, and when Christina laughed no one 
could resist the infection of it. It was a real 
laugh, not a giggle; and the clear notes that rip- 
pled out, one after another, were like a child’s 
delightful merriment, and every one turned round 
to look at her. Ho one had known till then that 
Christina could laugh, and they pressed upon her 
to know what the joke might be till the girl grew 
grave again, and begged them not to heed.” 

Dick, who had tumbled over his empty bottle 
many times without succeeding in raising the cork, 
was a little cross, and told Anne gravely when 
they reached home that he did not quite like that 
sudden burst of laughter. “ It was a little odd,” 
he thought, and proved that Christina was not 
quite — ” with an explanatory tap upon his fore- 
head. “ But she’s astonishingly pretty,” he added, 
“ and I wish Southwark was coming to the party.” 


CHAPTEE Y 


It seemed an established fact at Poplar’s Court 
that every one should arrive by the 4.45 train. 
This landed the guests at the Court shortly after 
five o’clock. Christina’s dreamy-looking grey 
eyes, which saw everything with such surprising 
wakefulness, had watched the brougham, the sta- 
tion omnibus, and the luggage-cart depart in the 
afternoon, and now as she and Lady Anne sat by 
the tea-table in the lamp-lit hall, Christina was 
mentally undergoing a thorough education, and 
was learning every detail of her lesson with ab- 
sorbing intentness. 

Mr. Drummond bustled out to the porch to 
receive his guests himself. “ Was that the correct 
thing or merely Dickie’s eccentricity? Would it 
not have been more impressive for a butler and 
two footmen to have gone to the door?” The 
scene that began to enact itself gave Christina 
the sensation of looking at the moving pictures 
in a cinematograph. 

Miss Anstruther came in first — sealskin jacket, 
dark velvet toque, and dark skirt — perfectly at 
home, chatted directly, and not in the least shy. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 71 

She walked with short, clicking steps over the pol- 
ished floor of the hall, gave Anne first one cheek 
and then another to kiss. “ Dear Anne, not a 
hit cold; plenty of foot-warmers! ’’ And then 
Christina found herself introduced to this una- 
bashed lady, and her hand was grasped somewhere 
high up in the air, shaken slightly from side to 
side, and let fall suddenly. Feeling a little be- 
wildered by this unusual form of salutation Chris- 
tina recovered herself to find that two gentlemen 
were making low bows to her from the other side 
of the hearth — she had not caught either of their 
names, but nodded her head primly in response. 
She became part of the moving picture. 

Then Dickie entered in a jocose manner, his 
arm linked through that of a tall, handsome girl 
in a big hat, while he performed polka steps by 
her side, and addressed her in tones of rapture 
as “ My own lovey-dovey! ’’ “ Old friends,’’ mur- 
mured Lady Anne, in an explanatory manner, and 
advanced to meet the new-comer with a few pleas- 
ant words of greeting. Judith Campbell was 
every one’s good sort. She had never been known 
to say anything unkind of any one, or to any one. 
She had great tales to tell over the hair-brushing 
o’ nights of the flirtations of men. But it was 
more than evident that Judith had never been 
seriously affected by the attentions she had re- 
ceived. She got letters daily from Tommies ” 
and Johnnies ” all over the world, and her room 
was a gallery of soldiers in uniform, and keepsakes 


T2 THE FOKTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


from departed heroes. Every man that she men- 
tioned was a great friend ’’ of hers. Each one 
had proposed to her at some time or other, hut 
as Judith had made up her mind that she would 
never love any one who had money, and it being 
absolutely impossible for her to marry any one 
who had it not, her love affairs generally ended 
with an exchange of keepsakes, or photographs, 
and, in extreme cases, locks of hair. And Judith’s 
Sunday afternoons were spent either in flirting 
Avith some fresh, unsuitable and penniless man, 
or in writing to unhealthy Indian stations to some 
one whom she had “ liked awfully, but who had 
not a penny, poor chap! ” She was excessively 
handsome, nad a brilliant colour that every 
one said was rouge, and submitted to be called 
fast by people who did not in the least under- 
stand her. 

Miss Anstruther, the girl Avith the clicking 
heels and the sealskin jacket, had all the assur- 
ance of a married Avoman. She Avas a Avise girl, 
had neA^er been talked about, had made up her 
mind to marry well, had faultless manners, and a 
keen eye to matrimony. Her mother Avas one of 
the Gordons, and her father Avas Anstruther of 
Anstruther ” — a name to give lightly and matter- 
of-factly in a letter to Colin — and there Avas never 
anything that was Avorth seeing, or a party Avorth 
going to for which Miss Anstruther did not get 
an invitation. Her poAvers of amusing others Avere 
not such as to warrant the frequent demands made 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 73 


for her society, but every one seemed to know 
that Lilah Anstruther was always to be relied 
upon to arrive punctually, to dress faultlessly, and 
to say and do the right thing upon every given 
occasion. She was not pretty, but her figure was 
charming, and her hair always exquisitely dressed. 
Christina thought Miss Anstruther was almost ag- 
gressively ladylike, and she wondered if she could 
ever have said or done anything vulgar; her ac- 
cent was refined to a degree that Christina thought 
bordered upon affectation. And beneath all this 
there was a frank intelligence and determination 
which perhaps explained the enigmatical remark 
made by her friends, when Miss Anstruther sub- 
sequently married a baronet with ten thousand a 
year, that “ they always knew that Lilah An- 
struther meant to succeed! ’’ 

She sat down beside Christina, and remarked 
— holding up her muff to the fire as a screen, and 
extending one slender, well-booted foot towards 
the warmth of the logs — “ I suppose you are stop- 
ping here? ’’ To which Christina replied “Yes! ” 
and added, “ Lady Anne Drummond is a cousin 
of an intimate friend of mine.’’ 

Christina wore her best black silk dress, and 
sat in the attitude that had been taught her at 
the dancing academy; and Lilah, who was an as- 
tute young person, took a long look at her, and 
decided that in spite of her beauty she would never 
be a social success. The studied accent, and the 
prim replies betokened an amazing ignorance of 


74 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


the world, and though, of course, it went without 
saying that a girl with good looks and £18,000 
a year could marry whom she pleased, Lilah, like 
every one else, decided that Christina was very 
stupid. It was rather hopeless attempting to make' 
conversation with any one who seemed to belong 
so entirely to some other world, and having es- 
sayed a feAV of the subjects most commonly under 
discussion in Society at the time. Miss Anstruther 
was compelled to fall back upon the barren, inter- 
rogatory style of conversation, and put Christina 
through a kindly catechism of her tastes and her 
pursuits, receiving in reply the truth without em- 
bellishment of unnecessary words. She was glad 
to move presently to another seat in the hall, ex- 
cusing herself from Christina^s side by saying that 
she felt too hot so near the fire. 

Lady Anne then introduced dear Alice,’’ and 
a tall lady, with fair hair and a perennial smile, 
came and sat down by Christina as though she 
were doing some good work — the righteousness of 
which gave pleasure to herself. It was surprising 
to find — only so many things were surprising — 
that dear Alice’s ” conversation consisted al- 
most entirely of self-praise. She had been work- 
ing in the East End lately, and she was sure Chris- 
tina would not misunderstand her when she said 
that every body had loved her.” Christina mur- 
mured that she was sure that that was very nice. 
And Alice continued: I assure you the poor men 
at the Club used to wait for me to come in the 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 75 


evening with a pleasure they could hardly conceal. 
I always made them put out their pipes whenever 
I came in : I said, ^ That is a civility which you 
owe to an English lady.’ And the same way with 
the women: ^ Kise up when I enter,’ was my in- 
variable rule, ^ it is good for you, and it is good 
for me.’ And so we learnt to understand each 
other. I never gave them money, for I do not 
think it is right; but the gratitude I received 
knew no bounds. Are you interested in parish 
work? ” 

No,” said Christina, Scotch people do not 
like you going to their houses unless you just want 
the pleasure of seeing them.” 

“ Have you no district visitors then? ” said 
Alice, and she fumbled in her pocket for a little 
note-book to take down what Christina would say. 
The subject was an interesting one to her, and 
she thought she would write to some church paper 
upon the question. 

Christina was disappointing, as usual. I 
could not say ,” she replied. I would not 
admit a district visitor myself, and that is all I 
know.” 

Ah ! ” Dear Alice put her note-book back in 
her pocket again. She had looked forward to 
meeting Anne Drummond’s Scotch friend, but, 
certainly, she was not intelligent. Alice hoped 
she was good. Alice herself was, to use a fine 
word lightly, very good. Goodness, if one may 
say so with all respect, was her long suit, and it 
6 


76 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


answered very well. Most people called lier “ tlie 
best of women/’ and slie gathered up a good many 
loaves and fishes by her strict adherence to the 
Christian pilgrimage. A certain ultra-safe con- 
ventionality, which is many people’s idea of piety, 
hedged Alice on every side. She mistook vanity 
for aspiration, and thanked God she was not as 
other girls are. Anne thoroughly believed in 
Alice. She was supposed to have an excellent in- 
fluence over young girls, and was fond of reading 
The Christian Year aloud in her bedroom on Sun- 
day afternoons. Her lighter accomplishment was 
that of “yodeling.” It was considered by her 
friends that no one could equal Alice in imitating 
the well-known cries of the Swiss mountaineers. 
She was generally asked for a demonstration of 
her talent, before she had been very long in a 
country house; but if no one made this request, 
Alice would yodel in her bedroom with the door 
open, and “ hope that she disturbed nobody.” She 
was tall and thin, with rather a pretty figure, 
parted her hair in the middle, and wore grey silk 
in the evening, with a white fichu, and a few 
natural flowers. 

There began to be some romping and shouts 
of laughter over by the tea-table where Judith 
was sitting — a sudden disputation as to who should 
have the last piece of muffin, and a noisy onslaught 
amongst the cups and saucers with a jingling of 
tea-spoons, and cries of Hold him down. Bun- 
kins! Stick to it, Dickie! Catch, Miss Camp- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 77 


bell ! ’’ Alice rose and said, “ I will go and dress 
now! I always leave the room directly there is 
any ragging.’’ • She linked her arm in Anne’s, 
drawing her upstairs for one of those intimate 
bedroom chats in which the soul of Alice de- 
lighted, and Christina was left alone in her oak 
chair on the other side of the hearth. 

There was something a little wistful about her 
isolation — not that caused by the few feet of space 
which separated her from the tea-table and its 
noisy group — but in her utter want of relation- 
ship to the big family who all know each other, 
and whom one calls Society. 

Either you belonged to this big family, or you 
did not belong to it. There seemed to be no be- 
twixt or between. You would have to grow up 
amongst them, Christina thought, even to under- 
stand their mode of talking, their amusements, 
their interests, or even their jokes. Her courage 
failed her when she thought of drawing nearer 
the laughing group; and she steadied hands that 
trembled a little against the arms of her chair, 
and looked into the fire. 

And then Barnabas came to her, because he 
was the Son of Consolation,” and had earned 
his sobriquet on account of his being a courteous, 
a kindly, a very noble person, of whom it might 
be said truly that manners makyth man.” But 
then, one must also understand that manners are 
the outcome of a noble mind, that they are made 
up of petty sacrifices, a tender consideration for 


78 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


the feelings and needs of others, and something 
more — a sort of innate goodness and blamelessness 
of character, and a genial kindly spirit such as 
shone through Barny’s grave blue eyes. Barnabas 
is Lord Hardcastle, and his baptismal name is 
Michael. No one ever dreams of calling him any- 
thing but Barnabas. His features are quite sub- 
servient to the expression of his face, and most 
people if asked to describe him, would probably 
say, “ I do not quite know what he is like. Ho, 
not handsome, of course, but then, why should 
you want a man to be handsome? He has long 
arms and legs, rather a colourless, healthy face, 
a big nose, and eyes that have never seen the 
worst side of any one yet. 

Barnabas sat down beside Christina, and he 
was the only person who did not begin his con- 
versation by remarking that it was cold. He 
pushed the log-fire together with his foot, and 
turning, said to the girl with an air of confidence 
and friendliness, “ I am allowed to do that, you 
know. Miss M^Hab, because I have known Dick 
more than seven years.” 

Christina forgot to hold on to the arms of her 
chair, forgot even her English accent for a little 
while, and said in low Scotch tones, turning her 
beautiful face to Barny^s, I think every one 
knows Dick very well.” 

Lord Hardcastle laughed, and said, Ah, you 
see how it is! We all feel as if we had known 
Dick seven years, even if we have only met him 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


79 


yesterday. But ours is really an old friendship, 
and I am godfather to Joan.^^ 

How is John Churchill, do you know?’’ he 
asked her presently. And Christina felt for the 
first time that she was one of the family. “ Is he 
any better? is he brighter than he used to be? 
Does he come downstairs at all when you are 
alone? ” 

Christina replied, Oh, yes ; he is always down 
when there isn’t company here. He seems a very 
disagreeable man.” 

Barny glanced quickly at her, but not unkind- 
ly: Ah, I must tell you about John some day,” 
he said, “ you must suspend your judgment until 
then.” 

Christina was silent for full five minutes 
after this, and Lord Hardcastle continued talk- 
ing without receiving any of her attention. 
She was looking at him all the time with un- 
seeing eyes, and when he had asked her some 
question about a favourite dog which Dick was 
keeping for him, Christina said, still in her 
pleasant Scottish voice, I am sorry I said that 
about Mr. Churchill, you make one feel sort of 
ashamed.” 

^^Ho, no,” he said, ^^not a bit; do not think 
that. John is a difficult man to know, but I 
thought the Drummonds might have told you. 
Some day you must take me for a long walk, will 
you? and we shall talk about all our neighbours 
and their affairs, and I will tell you about John. 


80 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


'NoWy I suppose you want to go and dress/’ looking 
at his watch, “ how long do you take ? ” 

I should like to take you for a walk some 
day,” replied Christina, going back in a certain 
categorical way she had to any question that had 
been previously asked her, I’m afraid you will 
find it very dull, but I hope you won’t forget.” 

“ I shan’t forget,” said Barnabas, smiling and 
giving her her candle. “ You have only half-an- 
hour till dinner-time. Miss M^Nab. Does your 
maid get very cross when you make her hurry ? ” 

“ Jessie is just an old servant we used to have 
at home,” said Christina, “ I would hardly call her 
a maid.” 

Tell Jessie it was all my fault,” laughed Bar- 
nabas, watching her going up the staircase. 

Christina put on her black evening dress, high 
to the neck, and with a severe black collar-band, 
from which her white throat rose in soft gracious 
lines: her red hair rolled in deep generous waves 
from a white parting, and lay in misty ripples 
upon her forehead, and was plaited in tight, hard 
braids at the back. Her grey eyes — unfathom- 
able, unawakened — looked straightly at the world, 
while the keen nose and red lips belied the upper 
part of the face, giving it a provoking character, 
because of its contradictions. 

It was the hush before dinner-time. The up- 
stairs world at Poplar’s Court dressed itself; the 
bustle of the lower world that prepared dinner was 
far away. One after another the doors of the 


THE FOKTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 81 


guest chambers in the long corridors gave up their 
occupants. The ladies sailed out fresh from the 
skilful hands of their maids, calm in the conscious- 
ness of being in an Englishwoman’s most becoming 
dress, neat and trim from rippled hair to satin 
shoe, taller in the dignity of trains, perfectly at 
home in full dress and diamonds — miracles of civ- 
ilisation and the refinement of ages. Lady George 
Seaton in pink satin and old lace; Judith Campbell 
in bravest scarlet tulle; Alice Maynard in her grey 
silk; and Lilah Anstruther in a perfectly fitting 
brown dress, such as no one else would have 
thought of devising. 

Jessie, who kneeled by her mistress’s door 
which she had placed conveniently ajar, was the 
person who saw all these fair ladies pass by, and 
she reported upon them to Christina in a hoarse 
whisper. Jessie was summoned to Miss M^Nab’s 
bedroom in a ceremonious manner every night be- 
fore dinner, but she was not skilled in making a 
^ lady’s toilet, or as she expressed it, was na hand 
at the dressin’,” so that she was generally merely 
a companion during the hour of robing, and sat 
on a chair by the fire making observations to her 
mistress. To-night she cooried ” down by the 
door, making trite remarks on the passers-by. 

There goes ane gran’ leddy, juist dressed to 
death and killed wi’ the fashion; wha’ will tha’ 
be noo? Lassie, did ever ye see the like of this 
auld body wi’ airms for a’ the world like bolsters, 
gingling wi’ beads like a bird o’ Paradise? Here’s 


82 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


diamonds for ye! Ye might get a few glass ones 
yersel’, juist nae to be beat. Thor’s yon’ Laird 
George as they ca’ him; but I think he’s got a 
wife a’ready, and Mr. Yenables followin’ hard 
after him. I was wishin’ ye wad set your cap at 
him afore I saw him, but there’s a hingieness abut 
thae shouthers which I couldna pit up wi’ mysel’.” 

Mrs. Weeks, who had driven over in an open 
pony-cart, was dressed in a purple dressing-gown, 
called my tea-gown,” in which she looked very 
handsome and matronly. It puzzled the watch- 
ing Jessie to imagine why the vicar’s wife should 
walk across the polished floor of the corridor hold- 
ing the train of her dark-coloured dress up in both 
hands, J essie not being aware that it was the Rev. 
Arthur Weeks’ invariable practice to tread heav- 
ily upon the train of any lady who walked in front 
of him. “ And what will thon be for, noo? ” mur- 
mured Jessie, here’s the minister’s wife gane by 
handin’ on to her goon wi’ baith hands, as if the 
lobby was a’ glaur.” 

“ I could not say,” replied Christina, “ you 
never know what they are after.” 

The Miss Tollemaches’ in white gowns, had 
arrived by a late train, and sailed down the corri- 
dor followed by Mrs. Blake, the last of the house 
party, in sparkling jet. 

Christina now thought that the time had ar- 
rived for joining the party in the drawing-room, 
and she stood at the door of that room for full five 
minutes lacking courage to enter, till Bunkins, fly- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 83 


ing downstairs at a full gallop — late as usual — 
almost knocked her down. A maid listening at 
the door/’ thought Bunkins, deceived by the sim- 
plicity of Christina’s attire. Then he saw the 
wavy red hair, and big dreamy eyes, and said 
kindly, Let’s go in together; it’s beastly entering 
a room last, unless you have got on a nailing good 
gown — which you have, of course,” he added 
hastily. “ I like black silk better than anything, 
myself.” And he blushed, for he was a truthful 
boy by nature. 

Bunkins, whose real name was Anstruther — 
he being Lilah’s brother — took the heiress in to 
dinner, and he told Anne afterwards that he 
thought it very decent indeed of her to have given 
him the first chance. He applauded every single 
remark which Christina made without reference 
either to its intelligence or its wit, and remarked 
heartily, I quite agree with you,” to whatever 
sentiments the girl shyly uttered. A nice, sim- 
ple, unaffected girl,” he pronounced her in his 
own mind to be, with that predisposition to ap- 
proval which a beautiful heiress inspires in peo- 
ple’s minds. 

After dinner all the girls spoke to her in a 
friendly sort of way, and Mrs. Blake, fixing tor- 
toiseshell-rimmed eyes upon her, inquired sternly 
if she were one of the M^Habs. suppose so,” 
replied Christina. And Mrs. Blake set her down 
as being either an adventuress or a fool. 

Judith Campbell came and sat beside her on 


84 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


the sofa, tucked a lot of silk pillows behind her 
back, remarking as she did so, “ I never see why 
one should not be comfortable, do you? and be- 
gan to give Christina biographies — snap-shots in 
words — of each of the guests at Poplar’s Court. 
The habit of snap-shotting seemed to be one of 
the fashions of Society. Every one had their por- 
trait taken verbally, and the artist who spoke en- 
dowed his subject with a pose ” which they were 
always expected to assume. 

Once or twice that afternoon and evening 
Christina had overheard scraps of conversation 
which showed that her own personal history was 
being given in much the same way: — Thirty 
thousand a year; really, truly! Tubes! ” She al- 
ways heard tubes mentioned, when she herself was 
under discussion, followed by the invariable ques- 
tion, What are tubes? Were they twopenny 
tubes, or gas pipes? Goodness only knew! ” And 
again — “Forty thousand a year, and beautiful — 
too much luck for one girl — not even big feet — so 
many heiresses were handicapped by big feet! ” 
Da capo. “What were tubes?” — “Every one,” 
she soliloquised, “ had a label attached to them.” 
Bunkins was “funny”; Judith was “a good 
sort ” ; Barny was “ the Son of Consolation ” ; 
Dickie was “ an ass ”; and Alice was “ good.” She 
wondered what would happen supposing Dickie 
wanted to be clever for a day or two; or if Alice 
should be seized by a desire not to be quite so good 
as usual; or if Bunkins were to demand a rest 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 85 


from being funny. Would tbe label that Society 
had affixed to them prevent their indulging in the 
display of characteristics which did not legally be- 
long to them ? Might the labels be detached some- 
times? Alice Maynard? Oh, she was good of 
course. I should hate to have started that role 
myself/’ said Judith frankly, you get no fun, 
and only bore the men. Bunkins is a dear. Miss 
M^l^ab was aware, of course, that Bunkins owed 
his sobriquet to his famous play, No Wonder Bun- 
kins Smiled. It was screamingly funny. What 
fun it would be to try and get up a representation 
of it at Popples! She must ask Anne if they 
might do it some night. Mr. Venables was fran- 
tically rich, but really not bad, considering. He 
gave parties, and mammas all loved him. Captain 
Stonor, that little man who had rotted so much at 
tea-time, was the smallest man in the Navy, and 
was always called ^ Bildad.’ Was not that nick- 
name too good? ” 

Christina did not see the point of the joke, and 
asked if it was because he was one of Job’s com- 
forters? 

No, no,” laughed Judith, Bildad, the 
Shoe-height — do you see? Ah, no; Barnabas is 
the comforter; you know they call him the ^ Son 
of Consolation.’ Did you know him before. Miss 
M^Nab? ” 

Christina replied. No; but she was quite sure 
the real aristocracy were easy to get on with. 

Judith’s face had softened a little, but she 


86 THE FOETUNE OF CHEISTINA M‘NAB 


spoke with her usual amazing frankness : “ I only 
once very nearly got into a scrape/’ she said, “ and 
Barny got me out of it. I daresay I was an idiot 
at the time — most girls are idiots at seventeen — 
I’ll tell you about it some day, if you like. I sup- 
pose you’ll have an awfully good time when you 
come up to town for the season,” she went on. 

You will get heaps of attention, and enjoy your- 
self immensely, I am sure. Be sure you come and 
see us; we live on twopence a year in a poky little 
flat, but I always enjoy everything.” 

You are very handsome,” said Christina sim- 
ply, raising heavy-lidded eyes to Miss Campbell’s 
radiant face. 

Judith laughed: ^Mt is not a bit of good, un- 
less you have money as well,” she said; and added 
without a trace of envy in her voice, I only 
wish I had half your dollars.” 

Christina liked an allusion to her fortune, and 
counted the fact that she was an heiress, when 
the gulf that separated her from the ^^aristocracy” 
seemed to open wide between her and them. 

Lady George Seaton sailed across the big draw- 
ing-room in her pink satin and roses, and sat down 
with a friendly air at Christina’s other side. I 
want you to tell me if you are any relation to a 
dear friend of mine, Bonnie M^Yab? ” she said. 

I spell my name with two ^ b’s,’ ” said Chris- 
tina grandly. She wished she had thought of say- 
ing this when Mrs. Blake had asked her if she 
were related to the M^Yab’s; but at the time she 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 87 


liad not really understood that the lady alluded 
to Sir David M^l^ab’s family. 

I am afraid Ronnie has only got one ^ b/ 
said Lady George, smiling. 

The heiress’s manner was not encouraging, and 
after making one or two painful efforts at a con- 
versation, Lady George was thankful to see that 
the gentlemen were returning from the dining- 
room. 

Mrs. Weeks now took full possession of the 
party, and having obtained a large empty table 
and some tumblers, began to display some “ dying 
Slopers ” which she had brought with her. Every 
one began to inflate the droll-shaped bladders, and 
shouted with laughter when the air escaped, and 
the dejected dolls collapsed over the side of the 
tumblers. They all declared that the Slopers were 
quite good,” an expression which Christina heard 
constantly on every side, and was doing her best 
to imitate. The gentlemen began to bet about 
which Sloper would die first if all were blown up 
at the same time, and encouraged the expiring 
dolls with cries of “Bear up, old chap! Give 
your mind to it, and we will pull you through yet! 
Don’t cry out before you’re hurt! Be a man, sir; 
be a man! ” and then passed shillings about from 
hand to hand, as the bets were lost or won. 

Mrs. Weeks’ enjoyment in the success of the 
entertainment she had, unasked, provided, was 
complete; and Mr. Weeks, to whom the painted 
bladders were old friends, retired from the table, 
and began to converse with Christina. He asked 


88 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


lier if she had been for certain walks in the neigh- 
bourhood, and warned her against damp feet, if 
she should walk in School Lane. The Much- 
Benham road was awful at present, and he had 
not been able to bicycle there for three weeks. 
With such remarks as these, which Mr. Weeks 
called conversation, he enlivened the evening. He 
was deep in the minutest diagnosis of his youngest 
child’s latest cold, when Christina was recalled to 
the group roufid the table by Dickie, who said, 
^Wou must come here. Miss M^Hab! Colonel 
Blake is showing us a model of Marconi’s wire- 
less telegraphy; it is an awfully good toy.” 

Exactly the same remarks were passed upon 
this plaything as upon the dying Slopers ” ; every 
one said “ quite good,” as they had done before, 
and Christina, who took serious matters seriously, 
never guessed that two of the gentlemen present 
who were explaining the ripping little toy,” 
knew more of the subject under discussion than 
any one else in England at the time. 

Two of the party had begun to play solitaire, 
and Christina at last saw an opening for making a 
few remarks: — 

“ I knew a man once,” she began — heavily con- 
versational, who died of playing solitaire.” 

^^Paw beast! ” said Bunkins sympathetically. 

He was an only son, too,” she plodded on. 

Oh, 'paw beast,” said Bunkins. 

“ Yes, he attended our church regularly,” said 
Christina. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 89 


“ Oil, paw — I mean, did lie really? That was 
awfully nice for him, I am shaw/’ 

“ Oh,^^ thought Christina, “ if I could only talk 
their language — only laugh over their little per- 
forming pigs, and scream over their dying Slopers, 
and call Marconi’s wireless telegraphy, ^ quite a 
good toy,’ how happy I should be! ” It was all 
the same, whether it was Joan’s race-game, her 
mechanical pig, the Marconi telegraph, or Mrs. 
Weeks’ Slopers, the vocabulary of Society was the 
same. And whether they spoke of Bunkins, who 
wrote ripping plays,” or Colonel Blake, who 
made ripping inventions,” or Canon Phillips, 
who preached “ quite good sermons,” or Mrs. 
Blake, who told quite good scandals,” the con- 
versation was carried on with the same brilliant 
imbecility. 

Christina slipped away early. It was no one’s 
fault. She was out of it. She had had her chance, 
and had missed it; no one could put up for very 
long with such dulness, such primness, such stupid- 
ity. If it were shyness, “ she had ” — as Mrs. Blake 
remarked — “ no business to be shy.” Christina 
undid her tightly-plaited coils of copper-coloured 
hair, and let it fall in a shower about her, dried a 
few tears, and consoled herself by writing a brill- 
iant account of the evening to Colin. 

And every other woman at Popples, collective- 
ly and individually, said to Lady Anne Drummond 
before they slept that night, “ My dear, why douH 
you dress her? ” 


CHAPTEK VI 

The next morning Christina crept down to 
breakfast early, and sat mute in her place taking 
notes. The party at Popples, whom she called 
comprehensively “ the aristocracy,” were the sub- 
ject of her musings: “ They are never ill, and they 
are always clean. E’one of them are shy, and 
none of them talk about their possessions, except 
it be their dogs. These are the only property 
that any one of them boasts of. Their dogs are 
always better than any one else’s dogs. Their 
children, when others praise them, are dismissed 
with a courteous, half-deprecating smile, and — 
^ Oh, she’s a funny little thing; don’t let her 
tease you! It’s too good of you to bother about 
her.’ Their boys are always alluded to as ^ my 
small boy.’ They never push, nor take other 
people’s places anywhere, or by any chance; and 
they never take a liberty.” 

English Society, she thought, is a walled gar- 
den, and you are either outside or inside, as she 
was beginning to discover. Even to an heiress, 
the gates of the garden seemed to be closed. Chris- 
tina had received some good advice from Colin 
90 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 91 


that morning, and the letter was still in her pocket. 

Mix with them all you can,’’ were Colin’s words. 

But ’deed,” said the girl, despondently, “ I do 
not believe mixing will do it. You have got to 
be born one of them.” 

Each girl, as she came down to breakfast, was 
a source of wonder to Christina. Had they prac- 
tised behind the door that particular way of en- 
tering a room? The playful nod, the word of 
courteous greeting to their hostess, their easy sub- 
mission to the attentions of gentlemen who sup- 
plied their wants, and their simple acceptance of 
the courtesies of the table. Poor Christina wanted 
some cold game badly, and glanced at the side- 
board once or twice; but this particular dish was 
not suggested to her by the gentleman who sat 
beside her, and Christina had not the courage to 
ask for any. In Murchison Street, you accepted 
what was offered to you, and what was not offered 
was not intended should be eaten. “ Good-mawn- 
ing, Lawd Gawge,” she repeated inwardly to her- 
self, in faithful imitation of Lilah Anstruther, 
who had just greeted George Seaton. It would 
be a grand thing to be able to pronounce a title 
with such an air of assurance, and she timidly be- 
gan to practise the art upon Lord Hardcastle, who 
took a chair next her. 

“ Good-m awning. Lord Barnabas,” she said — 
only to the Son of Consolation ” could she have 
ventured the greeting — I suppose you will be 
shooting to-day?’^ 

7 


92 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

“ Oh, good-morning/’ said Barny; “ yon slipped 
away early last night, did you not? I looked for 
you to say ^ Good-night,’ but you had flown.” 

Christina had gone to her room in a flattened- 
out condition, at an early hour; but now her social 
defeats did not seem so disastrous. She put on 
a little air of assurance, and slightly patronised 
Lord Hardcastle upon one or two points. 

“ I am afraid we cannot have our walk to-day,” 
he said presently, but I suppose some of the 
ladies will be coming out in the afternoon with 
the guns.” 

“ Is it dangerous work? ” asked the town-bred 
girl. 

Hot a bit; you come with me, will you, and 
let me look after you? And I promise faithfully 
I shall not shoot you.” 

Later on it was decided that the ladies should 
take out luncheon to the sportsmen, and a big 
waggonette and a pony-cart came round to the 
door at one o’clock. Mrs. Blake was going to take 
her husband’s place, and do a bit of shootin’ ” in 
the afternoon; and she was dressed in a man’s coat 
and gaiters, a short skirt, and a tweed cap. Miss 
Anstruther looked neat and charming in a short, 
well-cut, tailor-made gown, and a plain felt hat 
with a black cock’s wing in it. Even Alice May- 
nard wore a Bowdlerised edition of a tailor-made 
gown. Only Christina was in black cashmere and 
black silk. Lady George stayed at home with 
John Churchill, who had appeared at breakfast 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 93 


that morning, and seemed to be better. These 
two were fast friends of many years’ standing. 
Indeed Cicely seemed to be a woman universally 
beloved. It was rather difficult to know why this 
should be so, for fair sweet Cicely was neither 
beautiful nor clever; but there was about her 
something of the gentleness and fragrance of a 
flower — a woman who remained as a charming 
memory to those who had even met her but once, 
and to those who knew her well an inspiration. 

Alice offered to drive the pony-cart, in a self- 
sacrificing tone, which astonished Christina, as she 
could see that one or two of the girls would have 
liked to drive. She invited Christina to the other 
place in the pony-cart, and took the girl under her 
wing with that air of overdone charity which made 
her attentions somewhat irritating. They were 
some time behind the waggonette in starting, ow- 
ing to a difficulty about rugs in the first instance; 
one rug in particular, named by Alice my dear old 
plaidie from bonny Scotland ” being the only one 
that it seemed would suit her that morning; and 
in the second place “ Birdie,” a little dog with 
muddy feet, had to be found and placed by Alice’s 
directions on Christina’s knee. Thus equipped, 
they started for the wintry luncheon party. Alice 
beguiled the tedium of the drive by a good deal 
of sweet counsel, paraphrasing many of her re- 
marks with the words, “ Girls like you and me 
cannot be too careful.” Christina glanced won- 
deringly at her companion, whose age — even from 


94 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


a charitable point of view — could not have num- 
bered less than thirty-seven summers; but she said 
nothing, her attention indeed being principally en- 
gaged in repairing the ravages which “ Birdie ’’ 
was making upon her gown. 

Alice drove the pony by tugging at its mouth, 
and smiling at it. She asked Christina her opinion 
of every one who was staying in the hoiise, ap- 
pending the remark to some of those under discus- 
sion — “ I hate to be ill-natured, but I really don’t 
think I should advise you to have much to do with 
him, or with her. Poor Judith! she is getting a 
little hard, I think, and wants the softening influ- 
ence of love. If she could gain the affection of 
some good man, it would be the making of her. 
Poor Judith! there is really a great deal of good 
in the girl; it is only a pity that she is so silly 
about men.” 

Miss Maynard hinted at a by-gone love affair 
of her own, to which her heart was still true, and 
smiling bravely said, And so, I hold this world 
very lightly, you see, dear Miss M^Hab, and think 
only of how to do good and make others happy.” 
She asked Christina for a subscription to a charity, 
and the girl promised flve shillings. Alice looked 
a little disappointed, and said, “ A dear friend of 
mine in the Navy sent me five pounds for this 
deserving object; but what will not a man do for 
a good woman? ” 

“ I could not say, I am sure,” said Christina. 

Arrived at some wet-looking hay-stacks in a 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 95 


field, they found a large party assembled for lunch- 
eon. The two Misses Lumley — girls in the school- 
room — wearing Tam-o’-Shanters,’’ and under the 
guidance of an elderly governess, had been discov- 
ered by Dickie taking their morning walk along 
the road, and had been pressed into joining the 
feast by him. A young man, whose name no one 
could catch, had also been invited by the same 
hospitable host. Carriage-cushions and rugs were 
placed upon the ground, and the luncheon party 
proceeded to eat Irish stew served from a copper 
pot, and cold viands and jam tarts. They ate the 
simple fare with the keen enjoyment of school- 
boys in a tuck shop, and praised or blamed the 
viands as they passed them from hand to hand. 
It was very cold and raw and damp, but Christina 
found that by sitting on a shiny carriage-cushion, 
and digging her heels into a railway rug upon 
which Mr. Venables and Bunkins were sitting, she 
did not actually get wet. The men looked healthy, 
red, and happy. Their boots and gaiters were 
heavy with clay; one or two of them wrapped un- 
gainly tweed capes about them as they sat at 
lunch, but the greater number donned no extra 
covering, and seemed oblivious of the damp, pene- 
trating cold. 

Barny, having waited upon everybody as was 
his custom, appeared to be enjoying a lunch of 
^read-and-cheese as he sat on a wet stone wall. 
The ladies from Poplar’s Court made gay little 
remarks suitable to the occasion. To the sensitive 


96 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Bar it might almost seem that they were a series 
of remarks made at previous shooting luncheons, 
and aired regularly on these occasions. 

The Misses Lumley’s freshness and intense en- 
joyment of their stolen holiday was charming, and 
they began to tease their governess with school- 
girl glee; and soon every one was engaged in a 
lively discussion round their particular railway 
rug. A copy of the Sporting Gazette had been 
found wrapping up something in one of the lunch- 
eon baskets; and Miss Johnson had nervously 
asked that it might be handed to her. Every one 
laughed, and Agatha Lumley said, “ I do not see 
why there should not be a lady’s Pink ’Un, as I 
am never allowed to read that one.” 

A meeting was called by the simple expedient 
of gathering the little party together more closely 
upon the rug, and excluding . Miss Johnson, to 
whom it was suggested that she should take the 
hamper upon which she was sitting to a safe dis- 
tance. Giggling suggestions were made to Agatha 
who had nominated herself editor; and Judith 
Campbell began busily writing notes in one of the 
gentlemen’s pocket-books. The carriage-cushions 
were pushed up closer to the editorial group, and 
Lilah, who was sitting upon a little seat formed 
by the handle of her walking-stick, said to her 
brother, “ Do let us hear what they are talking 
about, Bunkins.” 

That it be called the The Ladies’ Pink ’Un,” 
said the future editor, giving out the minutes of 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 9Y 


the meeting, and that no man be allowed to 
read it.’’ 

Except me,” said the young man whose name 
no one could catch. 

And me ! And me ! And me ! ” from a cho- 
rus of voices. 

I have three jokes and one excellent story al- 
ready prepared for the paper,” said the younger 
Miss Lumley, aged fifteen, one is ” 

My dear, not now,” said the governess, giv- 
ing Angela a warning poke on her Tam-o’-Shanter 
with her umbrella. Miss Johnson was still hover- 
ing, in an apprehensive mood, in close proximity 
to her pupils, and her solicitude generally took 
the form of an attack upon one of the woollen 
Tam-o’-Shanters, which was her method of keep- 
ing order. 

One is,” repeated Angela, and she looked 
sternly about her — 

“ Have some beef,” said Dickie, it is quite 
uneatable.” 

Or some sandwiches,” said Bunkins, “ they’re 
beastly.” 

Please go on,” said Mr. Venables implor- 
ingly, to the editor. He lay on a mackintosh 
rug behind the hamper, clad in much Harris 
tweed. 

That it be conducted strictly on the lines of 
the old Pink ’Un,” went on the fair editor, con- 
tinuing to report the minutes of the meeting. “ I 
have a Pink ’Fn here,” she said, but there’s a 


98 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

story in it which I do not understand. It is 
this ’’ 

I insist upon it that you do not read the story 
aloud/’ said the governess, attacking Agatha’s 
Tam-o’-Shanter in a feverish manner, you must 
hand the paper to some gentleman to read the 
story first, if you want to have anything ex- 
plained.” 

Frenzied snatching at the Pink ’Un, on the 
part of the whole company. 

“ I am thinking of a joke for your paper,” said 
Bunkins, it is to the effect that it will blush a 
deeper pink than ever when you girls edit it. 
But,” he added, “ it ought to be put more fanci- 
fully than that. I must think it over.” 

Put it into rhyme,” said the editor, and 
make something neat of it. What rhymes with 
^ Pink ’Un ’? ” 

“ Drink ’Un,” said Dickie, “ talking of which 
reminds me ” 

A good Samaritan handed him what he 
wanted. 

I wish I knew what I was drinking,” said 
Lord Hardcastle, looking thoughtfully into his 
own tumbler, it has a flavour of beer and whisky 
and Worcester sauce.” 

That’s the best of horn tumblers,” said Dick, 
you can never tell what you are drinking, nor,” 
he added with a sigh, how much! ” 

Talking of ghosts,” said the nameless young 
man, “ I once had a very strange experience ” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 99 


We might have a ghost’s column/’ exclaimed 
the future editor delightedly; “ only ghosts are 
always so horribly respectable.” 

“ Not always,” said the governess, “ I know of 
a case — ” And then she felt sorry, very sorry, 
that she had spoken, for every note-book was pro- 
duced, and it was even suspected that a well- 
trained footman of unimpeachable manner had 
drawn a shade closer. That is really all,” con- 
cluded the governess, when she had told the story 
with the point left out. 

I think it will do for our paper,” said the fu- 
ture editor smiling, when we have filled in your 
charming notes.” 

“ It reminds me,” said Dickie, of a story very 
like it, only in this case the ghost ” 

Pray, pray, be careful! ” said the governess, 
with a hastiness which belied the truth of her re- 
mark that she had indeed told the story in extenso. 
She blushed, and her eye wandered to Angela’s 
Tam-o’-Shanter. 

I shall interview you privately,” said the 
editor, moving to the other side of the hay- 
stack with Dickie, whither the whole company 
followed her. 

Heads were placed close together, and Judith 
was kept busy wetting the point of her pencil, and 
hastily scribbling notes. I think it will do,” she 
said, fastening the strap of her note-book, and 
requesting that a new point might be put to her 
pencil. 

LofC. 


100 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


“ And the colour of the Ladies^ Pink ’Un/^ 
said Bunkins, is to be a deep rosed’ 

Anne came forward with the suggestion that 
the days were very short, and if there was to be 
any more shooting, would it not be as well to 
begin? 

And Bunkins gave himself credit for the very 
prompt way in which he went up to Christina, 
who still sat upon her carriage-cushion, and said, 
“ You’re coming with me, aren’t you? ” 

Christina looked round for Lord Hardcastle, 
who was helping to fold up rugs, and decided that 
he must have forgotten that they were to walk 
together; and Bunkins assisted her to rise from 
her lowly carriage-cushion or, as he said, gave her 
a hand up, and walked off with her triumphantly. 
They took up their position in a wet ride in the 
wood. The trees dripped overhead, and the whole 
chilly air breathed moisture. The ground was 
sodden under foot, and every hoof-mark and foot- 
mark and track of wheels in the ride was filled 
with water. Christina walked along balancing 
herself on the upper edge of a wheel-rut, and Bun- 
kins remarked cheerfully: 

Bather wet, isn’t it? What a plucky girl you 
are! Will you take my hand over this bad bit? ” 
Thanks, I’ll do fine,” said Christina, drawing 
down her upper lip. 

Arrived at his place in the shoot, Mr. An- 
struther stationed Christina at his back and told 
her not to speak or move. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 101 


Strange,” niiirmured Christina to herself, 
doing as she was bid. “ It was a queer-like way,” 
she thought, of enjoying an afternoon, to stand 
at a man’s back, with your feet coldly sinking in 
wet clay, and drops falling icily from branches 
overhead in the silence of the wood.” 

Bunkins jerked his arm at her presently, and 
said, Keep back, please.” 

I haven’t moved,” said Christina snappishly. 
And she added to herself, I suppose I’ve sunk 
so deep in mud now, that I couldn’t move if I 
tried.” 

Enjoying yourself? ” inquired Bunkins pres- 
ently, in a hoarse but hearty whisper. 

It’s just grand,” replied Christina, what 
more could a person want? ” 

The bitter sarcasm of the remark was lost upon 
Mr. Anstruther’s Harris tweed shoulders, and his 
opinion of Christina rose every moment. 

If I propose to the girl,” he said to himself, 
“ as Lilah seems to think I ought to do, it will be 
because I really like her.” 

Further down the ride could be seen Mrs. 
Blake and her husband in their strange garments 
— their attitude of hushed expectancy and furtive 
keenness reminding Christina of a picture she had 
once seen of poachers waiting at the edge of a 
spinney. Hot a whisper could be heard from so 
keen sportsmen — not a twig stirred in the damp 
green ride, and only one distant laugh from Judith 
Campbell broke the stillness of the wood. The 


102 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


sun, which had hid its face all day, now showed 
red in the heavens, and turned the water lying 
in pools on the grass into blood-red patches. The 
misty woods were a deep purple colour, and the 
cold increased in the waning of the afternoon. 
The cries of the beaters began to sound distantly 
in the farther end of the wood, and were respond- 
ed to by a quick instinctive movement on the part 
of the guns, which reminded one of a terrier 
pricking up its ears. Hi-hi ! I-yi ! Yi-yi ! Tyi ! 
they came nearer with their quaint cries. “ Hi-hi ! 
Hi-hi! ’’ coming through the wood with arm up- 
lifted to the face, as a protection against the 
springing undergrowth, and beating the bushes 
with sticks. Then with a whir and a rush the 
pheasants came overhead, and bounding rabbits 
tumbled head over heels, and lay dead under the 
trees. Bang, bang, bang ! a pheasant sails forward 
a yard or two, and then falls like a plumb of lead 
into the wood. The hares and rabbits go popping 
over the ride, and fall at the edge of the wood, 
and the clocking and noisy flight of the pheasants 
is over. 

The red sun is low in the sky now, and a moon 
like the rim of a white soup-plate is clear cut on 
the soft blue overhead. The keepers pick up the 
game, and one of them knocks a hare, that is still 
squealing, on its head. Bunkins beats his arms 
together, and says, I wish I had not missed that 
bird with my last barrel.” And Mrs. Blake, with 
her gun over her shoulder, comes down the ride 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 103 


swinging a gory rabbit by the legs, and says, 
J ust give this to one of the men, Bunkins/^ 

“ I am going home,” said Christina, loosening 
great turfs from her boots with the point of a 
stick — she had, to her own great surprise, escaped 
death herself in the recent affray. When the first 
bird fell she had thumped Mr. Anstruther sharply 
on the back, and begged him to give over.” But 
he had not seemed to feel the blow, nor to hear 
her. Since that moment she had remained with 
eyes tightly shut and hands locked together, ^^ow 
she was hastening back through the wood, pursued 
by kindly questions as to her being tired or cold; 
but Christina was in the heart of an ash planta- 
tion, leaning against the wet green boughs, and 
sobbing out, I hate to see the puir beasts killed; 
and Meed I^m not sure but what I was near killed 


CHAPTEE YII 

Eive days after his arrival at Poplar’s Court, 
Mr. Anstruther proposed to Christina. The cir- 
cumstances attending his declaration were pictur- 
esque, if not dramatic, and this appealed to the 
author of hTo Wonder Bunkins Smiled. There 
was no necessity why he should have given up 
half a day’s hunting to declare his suit, hut the 
sacrifice involved in this proceeding seemed suit- 
able, romantic, and appropriate to such a serious 
occasion. 

The hounds met on Mr. Drummond’s lawn on 
Wednesday morning, and almost the whole of the 
house-party rode to the meet. Anne stayed at 
home with John Churchill, who, as she knew, al- 
ways suffered from depression of spirits when 
there was a large party of guests in the house. 
And this gentle woman — always careful of the 
feelings of others — used often to slip away to 
the little suite of rooms in the south wing where 
J ohn Churchill lived his retired painful existence, 
and would pass her mornings chatting to the silent 
man, and soothing him with the thought — never 
uttered, but gently insisted upon — that no stran- 
104 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 105 


ger^s company, however welcome the stranger 
might be, could ever be so dear to her as the 
invalid man’s. Dickie, too, would run in at all 
hours of the day, but John’s reluctance to join 
the party downstairs was always a cause of dis- 
tress to the sociable little man, and his visits were 
rather disturbing. 

Lady George, another of those gentle women 
who lay, as it were, a cool soothing touch upon 
life, used to come and read to John in his pleas- 
ant sunny sitting-room; and could even persuade 
him, where others failed, to dine and lunch down- 
stairs sometimes. He and Christina, with Lady 
Anne, were in the dining-room just now, and the 
room felt strangely empty after the recent days 
of laughter and talk round the table. Mr. An- 
struther came trotting up to the door in his pink 
coat, and took them all by surprise. For some 
occult reason Bunkins seemed perfectly satisfied 
with himself this morning, and announced I’ve 
returned ” with a self-congratulatory air which 
led one to suppose that something lay behind this 
very obvious announcement. His sudden appear- 
ance made Anne blanch for a moment, and she 
went hastily to the door, exclaiming, “ Oh, Mr. 
Anstruther, nothing wrong, I hope! Dick? Joan? 
they’re really all right?” — For Miss Joan used 
to canter about on her pony with her father now- 
adays, and Anne never really had a happy mo- 
ment the whole time that those dearest, most 
irresponsible people were out of her sight. Mr. 


106 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

Anstruther assured her in a few well-chosen 
words that they were as right as rain.’’ 

He drew Anne aside presently, and asked her, 
still in his delighted smiling manner, if he might 
have the pony-cart that afternoon? 

Why, of course he might have it,” Anne 
said. “ Had he forgotten anything for the theat- 
ricals? ” — For Mr. Anstruther’s play was going to 
be acted on the following night. — 

“No, no; Ha-ha!” replied Bunkins. “Ah, 
you know, I wondered if you wanted anything 
that I could get you in Hoeford. It w'ould be 
an object for a drive, wouldn’t it? ” 

Anne admitted this, but failed to see why the 
pony-cart should be wanted if the object for the 
drive had still to be provided. 

“ I thought I would ask Miss M^Nab to come 
with me,” said Bunkins; and having said so he 
blushed slightly, for Anne’s look of wonderment 
was a little disconcerting. Nevertheless she pro- 
vided a message to be taken to Mrs. Weeks, and 
Christina, upon being invited to drive, expressed 
her willingness to do so. 

Bunkins arranged the carriage rugs around 
her with care — it might almost be said with im- 
pressive care — hoped twice that she was warm 
enough, leant across her to give the rug a final 
adjustment, and said to himself, “I think that 
gives one a lead, ’pon my word, I do. A girl can- 
not mistake a man’s intentions, if he goes wrap- 
ping her up like this.” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 107 


Christina’s prim That will do, thank you,” 
might have been disconcerting to some men, but 
not to Mr. Anstruther; and a delighted “ Ha-ha ” 
was his only response. 

The subject, when it actually came to the im- 
portant words, was a very difficult one — an amaz- 
ing difficult one — owing to the impossibility of 
finding an opening for beginning. In all his ex- 
perience Mr. Anstruther had never met a girl 
who seemed to know so little of the game. He 
had asked her rather lamely for one of her gloves, 
and had been refused the request upon the utili- 
tarian ground that “ it was too cold to do wanting 
the article in question.” 

“ Miss M^Nab,” said Bunkins, after a consider- 
able pause, I am sure you are romantic; I see 
it in your eyes.” 

“ I’m sure I am not,” said Christina, in a flat 
conclusive tone which made any pursual of the 
subject impossible. 

There was nothing for it but to ask for some- 
thing again. So Bunkins proffered a request for 
a few of the violets which Christina wore pinned 
into the front of her black jacket. 

I’ll give you a few when I get home,” was the 
response, I’m afraid I really can’t be bothered 
unpinning them now; my hands are that cold.” 

Her handkerchief then: In all the love stories 
he had read, in all the plays he had written, the 
whole romance of the thing had always hinged 
upon the rape of a lady’s handkerchief. 

8 


108 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

What would the man want next/’ wondered 
Christina. Was there any more of her clothing 
of which he wished to deprive her? First, her 
gloves; then, the flowers which she wore; and 
then, her handkerchief — a good cambric one 
which Christina would have been sorry to part 
with. It seemed ungenerous to refuse a third re- 
quest, but, after all, a handkerchief on a cold day 
was a necessity. You can stop at the shop, and 
get one,” said Christina, “ I’ll hold the pony.” 

“ You wonH understand! ” said Bunkins hope- 
lessly. Miss M‘Nab,” with an effort, do you 
believe in love ? ” 

Yes,” said Christina, “if it is suitable.” 

“Am I suitable?” exclaimed Bunkins, catch- 
ing at a straw. “ Christina — I may call you Chris- 
tina, may I not? — you must have guessed, must 
have seen the profound — er — respect, and all that, 
which I feel for you — which any fellow would 
feel for you, in fact.” 

“ I had not noticed it, but I am sure you are 
very kind.” 

“ Kind! I like that. Why, with your beauty, 
and your — I mean, with all your attractions, you 
might have half the fellows in England at your 
feet ; but I do like you awfully. And if you could 
think of a poor devil like me — I mean in a matri- 
monial sort of way — you would make me awfully 
proud.” 

Christina wanted further enlightenment, and 
said, “ Is this a proposal? ” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 10^ 


“Yes, yes; by Jove, yes!’’ said Mr. Anstrii- 
ther, delighted at getting a little assistance at last, 
“yes, by Jove, it is! I know it’s awfully badly 
put, but it is a hond-fide proposal, and I offer you 
myself, and all I’ve got, which is not very much, 
it is true.” 

“ I am glad to have had a proposal,” said Chris- 
tina, with evident pleasure. “ I suppose it is not 
considered very good taste to talk about these 
things, but I hope you will not mind my telling 
a young man of my acquaintance about it.” 

The reply seemed a little bit beside the mark, 
so to say, and it was difficult to gather from it 
whether it was in the affirmative or the negative. 

“ I hope,” replied Mr. Anstruther, determined- 
ly disposed to look on the bright side of things, 
“ I hope that means ^ Yes ” 

Christina had once advised her servant Jessie 
to marry a milkman in Inmboro, whose name 
was Sandy M^Kellar. “ I think you’d better marry 
Sandy,” she had said. To which Jessie’s laconic 
reply was : “ Hoots ! what wad I dae wi’ Sandy, 
and what wad Sandy dae wi’ me? ” Unfortunate- 
ly, these were the only words which suggested 
themselves at the moment to Christina; but she 
tried to soften her refusal by saying, “ I doubt 
we are not suited.” 

“ Oh, come ! ” said Mr. Anstruther — and then 
the pony-cart drew up at the Vicarage door, and 
he had to leave the important subject in the mid- 
dle of it, for Mrs. Weeks had run at them in the 


110 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


porch, and was playfully dragging Christina from 
her seat. 

Do come in,’’ she cried, “ we are having such 
fun! The mothers are here for their annual tea, 
and we are feasting them in the parish room. You 
will be charmed. Miss M‘Yab, if you have not be- 
fore seen anything of English rural life. The old 
women are as good as a play.” 

Still chattering, Mrs. Weeks led them into the 
parish room where some thirty old women were 
drinking tea. hTothing in their faces nor in the 
viands provided suggested anything very festive 
in the way of a treat. 

The stolid-faced women in their bonnets and 
shawls, munching rock cakes in a business-like way 
which suggested stoJcing rather than eating, and 
the bare tables and common tea-pots were melan- 
choly, and reminded one of a workhouse. 

“Here,” cried Mrs. Weeks, “is a lady come 
to see you all the way from Scotland.” She spoke 
the words as though Christina had taken train 
from the Horth especially for this hour. “ And 
she will tell you all about the people in her own 
country and their quaint delightful ways. Sit 
down. Miss M‘Hab; I am sure you have all sorts 
of amusing tales to tell us about the Scotch. I 
have myself read all those dear books about kail- 
yards and Brier Bushes and things, and I know 
that my old women will be delighted if you will 
just hop up on that little platform, and give us 
a short account of Scottish life and character! ” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 111 


Christina having given an unqualified, if brie^, 
refusal, Mrs. Weeks — who disliked Christina as 
much as one kind-hearted woman can dislike an- 
other — seemed hurt, and invited Mr. Anstruther 
to get up and be funny! ’’ 

Bunkins gave Christina an overdone tragic 
look, and remarked that he did not feel in the 
mood to be funny 1 

Mrs. Weeks then began to try and “ draw the 
old women out,’’ leading up to bygone remarks 
of theirs which she hoped might be made again 
for the entertainment of her friends: “What was 
it your little boy said, Mrs. Jessup, when the dog 
bit the other little boy? ” 

“Well, well, now, for sure I’ve forgot,” re- 
plied the old woman, shaking her head with the 
air of invulnerable stupidity which the peasant 
class in England always assume when asked a di- 
rect question, “ But he is a bad boy, is my Tommy, 
and I wish I could get him from playing about 
with rough lads in the village.” 

The humourousness of this reply was certainly 
not overdone, and Mrs. Weeks turned disappoint- 
edly to another woman who, with a tied-up face, 
and hand held to her cheek, was suffering a good 
deal from sweet cake having got into her rot- 
ten tooth : “ What was it you were telling us about 
chapel the other day, Mrs. Dobson? Come now, 
we want to hear all about it. You remember the 
time when the minister preached such a long ser- 
mon, and your sister got tired? ” 


112 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Sairey said slie was tired/^ mumbled tbe old 
woman, I do not remember naught else that 
Sairej said.’^ 

They’re a little shy,” whispered Mrs. Weeks 
to Christina, “ you should just hear the funny 
things they say when I get them alone! I often 
tell Willie I must get a book and jot down all 
their remarks.” 

Mrs. Weeks dashed round the table to refill 
a cup, and handed plates of cake in a hearty man- 
ner, and with various jocose remarks which never 
produced a smile. Come now, Mrs. Jones, we 
can manage another little bit, can’t we? nothing 
like trying. That’s the way to get along — a good 
hearty tea, and then a romp afterwards.” And 
in pursuance of this theory, Mrs. Weeks did pres- 
ently set her old women in array to play a game 
which she called “ Gathering nuts in May.” 

The old women, stiff with the burden of years 
and of toil, put out red hard hands, upon which 
the wedding-ring looked embedded with painful 
tightness, and essayed to draw each other across 
a line of chalk which Mrs. Weeks had drawn upon 
the wooden floor. She cheered vociferously which 
ever side scored a point, and shouted out encour- 
aging words, to the intent that she had laid her 
last sixpence upon Mrs. Dobson, or with equal 
impartiality declared that her all was staked upon 
the opposing side. 

Little Miss Weeks was turned on to play a 
piano — of which a few notes still sounded — to give 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 113 


a feeling' of jollification to the entertainment. 
Miss Weeks had only one piece which she knew 
off by heart — it was the March from Faust, and 
she played it with blue fingers from end to end, 
some thirty or forty times. The air was not in- 
spiriting, owing to its want of consecutiveness, the 
condition of the piano rendering it impossible to 
give any air in its entirety. Little Miss Weeks 
played on diligently, and even sometimes sought 
to give variety to her performance by playing her 
piece ’’ upon different octaves of the piano. Her 
taste inclined towards a contrast in light and 
shade; and her favourite position was to have the 
left hand very far down in the bass, and the right 
one very far up in the treble. The effect was 
curious, and reminded one somewhat of a Volun- 
teer Band heard in the very far distance. 

And now, suddenly, the parish hall was filled 
with cheering, for old Mrs. Dobson had pulled old 
Mrs. Smith so smartly over the dividing chalk 
line that that latter-named stout and portly lady 
had fallen upon her hands and knees, and hurt 
them badly. The applause was long and con- 
tinued. 

I think we must be going,” said Christina, 
having learnt from paying a call with Dickie that 
the movement to say Good-bye ” rested on the 
initiative of the lady. 

Mrs. Weeks protested hospitably against their 
departure, pressed some more tea upon them in 
much the same way as she would have pressed 


114 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


it upon her starving old women, and invited them 
to have a rock cake with an air of distinguished 
patronage. 

The refreshment having been declined, Mr. 
Anstruther and his lady-love got into the little 
pony-cart again, and silence fell upon them. 
“ Never , thought Bunkins, “ never will I propose 
to a girl again at the beginning of a drive. I do 
not know if I ought to cry or sulk, or what I 
ought to do! ’’ It was very awkward. 

At last he said to Christina, Quite comfy, 
eh? And half a mile further exclaimed, “ You 
don’t think I have been a brute, do you? ” 

Satisfactory but monosyllabic replies having 
been elicited to both questions, no other subject 
of conversation was started between them, and 
the drive ended lamely, as far as Bunkins was 
concerned. 

Christina, it is true, was not disconcerted, and 
she entered the hall with more assurance than 
she had done for some days past. Every one was 
having tea, and no sooner was she seated than 
Christina discovered that Mr. Anstruther was be- 
ing made the victim of much chaff from those who 
had seen him ride home in the middle of a good 
day’s hunting. Christina was elated, and looked 
prettier than ever — not even her black straw hat 
with the black silk bow could entirely dim the 
girl’s dazzling beauty. “ I could be one of the 
aristocracy too, if I liked,” she was thinking; and 
she began to patronise Lord Hardcastle as a prac- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 115 


tical outcome of her thoughts. It was therefore 
sad for Christina that that very evening her pride 
should have a fall; but what was the good of 
being Scottish if you did not have principles? 
What was the good of having principles if they 
permitted you to play cards? 

Cards were the order of that evening’s amuse- 
ment — cards of a very mild description, for Anne 
objected to playing for anything but the smallest 
stakes in her house. The game chosen was bac- 
carat, with stakes of sixpence or a shilling, and 
there was a good deal of fun over this most idiotic 
of games, and very little loss or gain on either 
side. But the name itself was a distinct shock 
to Christina. In Murchison Street, cards were 
called — with some lack of originality — the dev- 
il’s books,” and baccarat was, perhaps, the worst 
form of that august personage’s library. Every 
one sat down at the table, the ladies produced 
little gold purses, or jewelled reticules, and the 
gentlemen emptied their pockets of silver, and laid 
it in piles in front of them, and Christina paused, 
horrified at the situation. Would she sacrifice 
principle, and join this wicked, gambling rout, or 
would she fly from the room, and refuse to return 
again? The ordinary excuses, such as a headache 
or fatigue, did not suggest themselves as a way 
out of the difficulty, simply because she neither 
had a headache nor was fatigued. Dickie was 
calling to her in his kindly, piping way, to come 
and take a chair next him, and he would look after 


116 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


her, and Lord Hardcastle came across the room to 
find a chair for her. 

“ My lord,’’ said Christina, raising big fright- 
ened tearful grey eyes to his, “ I do not play ; I 
disapprove! ” 

I think,” said dear Barny, turning and speak- 
ing towards the table of players, in his high-bred, 
courteous English voice, I think Miss M‘Nab 
and I are going to discuss South African politics 
together.” 

And Christina blessed him; while the men 
thought that even Barny was going to have a try 
for the heiress, and the ladies considered that it 
was rather sly of Christina thus to monopolise the 
favourite guest, and prevent his joining their 
game. No one but Barnabas ever guessed what 
was really in the girl’s mind. 

Christina’s popularity was not on the increase, 
and not even the fact that an Honourable ” had 
proposed to her had suificient power to soothe her. 
The guests at Popples were more than courteous 
— their politeness had even become a little oppres- 
sive. Lilah Anstruther never failed to take her 
for a perfunctory walk in the morning. Judith 
Campbell called her a dear old girl ” ; and Alice 
Maynard played the part of an aggressive good 
Samaritan. Mrs. Blake frankly snubbed her. She 
had a rigid prejudice to Scotch people, and a 
Scotch accent, and she asked Christina in a tone 
of irritation, why she spoke so slowly. “ I suppose 
because I am Scotch,” the girl replied. There 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 117 


are two sorts of Scotch people/’ said Mrs. Blake, 
in a smart way, “ there are Scotch people, and 
^ d — d ’ Scotch people.” 

Captain Stonor had begun a flirtation with 
Miss Campbell, as it was some one’s business 
always to do; and Mr. Venables was excellently 
held in hand by Lilah Anstruther. Every one 
else seemed to have paired with friends or chosen 
companions, and Anne was much occupied with 
John, who had not been well lately. Dickie never 
failed in his good comradeship towards her, and 
called her invariably “ the best sort in the world,” 
with something of the same kind of cheerful hope- 
fulness with which he called John Churchill “ a 
gay dog.” 

The day after Bunkins’ proposal, Alice May- 
nard came to Christina, and said, “ Come to my 
room, childie, and let’s have a nice little talk! 
You look so much alone.” And she led her up 
to the big front bedroom, which Alice in a playful 
way always successfully claimed as her own, and 
having settled Christina into a comfortable chair 
she began to yodel at her. Alice’s accomplish- 
ment had not had free scope as yet, and she 
yodeled until Christina asked her if that was a 
song. 

Oh, what am I doing? ” said Miss Maynard, 
starting as if from a reverie, I suppose I am 
yodeling. I got into the way of it in Switzer- 
land, and I often do it here; it sounds so beautiful 
across the park.” 


118 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Please continue/’ said Christina. 

To which Alice replied, “ Ask me some other 
day, dear childie, when I am downstairs; it will 
sound better in the hall.” 

“ Are you fond of doing it? ” asked Christina, 
wondering at the taste which should enjoy utter- 
ing these strange sounds. 

“ No, dear, but one must be bright and sunny, 
and do as others like,” said Alice. Now, I am 
going to take you for a little walk with me and 
Birdie; so get on your hat, and we shall have a 
nice little talk together.” 

As they passed through the hall in walking 
attire, one of the gentlemen called out to Chris- 
tina, “ Oh, faithless woman ; you know you prom- 
ised to go for a walk with me this morning! ” 
But Alice linked her arm in hers firmly, and said, 
with sweet playfulness, “No, no; but Pm not 
going to spare her. She is coming for a walk 
with me, and we are going to see the gardens to- 
gether.” 

“ I always think it is so strange,” she said to 
her companion, as they started, “ that some girls 
never seem happy unless they are with men.” 

“ Oh, indeed,” said Christina. 

They wandered into the frosty kitchen garden, 
and there they met Mr. Eivers, smoking his cigar. 
The walls of the garden were high, and the goose- 
berry bushes were bare, yet a quick eye might 
have seen that these means of escape and conceal- 
ment were both glanced at by Mr. Eivers, before 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 119 


lie advanced with a guilty air, and remarked to 
Miss Maynard, “ I have been looking for you, as 
I promised to show you the golden pheasants/^ 

“ Let us go now,^’ said Alice, dropping Chris- 
tina’s arm; I am sure you would like to take 
me to see the pheasants, and I must not break 
my promise of going with you, you know.” 

Mr. Kivers naturally suggested that Christina 
should go too ; but Alice said, “ Oh, no ; we have 
quite finished our little chat, haven’t we? and 
you won’t mind running home now, childie, will 
you?” 

So Christina returned to the house. She went 
to help Lady George to prepare some dresses for 
the theatricals that night, and then assisted Anne 
to receive the numerous guests who drove over to 
an informal dinner-party before the play began. 

Dinner was an unusually silent meal, as nearly 
every one was conning inwardly his or her own 
part in the play which was to follow in the even- 
ing. Dickie, by his own request, was to act as 
a footman upon the stage, and it had taken him 
full two days to arrange his attire. He had one 
sentence to speak, and this he was so much afraid 
of forgetting that he muttered it audibly the 
whole of dinner time. Every one was a little bit 
nervous, and Joan, who had been allowed to dine 
downstairs, and sit up late, was almost the only 
person who provided conversation. Joan’s dreams, 
the recitation of which were a constant source of 
apprehension and alarm to her friends, seemed to 


120 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


have been of an unusually interesting character 
lately: 

I dreamt last night/’ she began in her shrill 
treble, bobbing her sandy curls about until they 
flicked her cheek, I dreamt last night that Wil- 
liam married my nurse ” — William, one of the 
footmen, retreated precipitately from the room, 
but was met by a remorseless butler, who turned 
him back at the door — “ I dreamt that Mr. Weeks 
married them with one of my bead rings, and then 
they all came home here for the wedding-break- 
fast, and they had a baby, and everything, and 
it ate up all the wedding-cake.” 

“ Joan,” said her father (ceasing for a moment 
to murmur, What time would your lordship like 
the carriage this evening, and shall I put out the 
lights?”) — ^^Joan,” he repeated in a terrible 
voice, I forbid you to dream any more of these 
ridiculous dreams again.” 

J oan laughed : “ But that dream is not nearly 
so funny as one I had the other night. ' I dreamt 
that our kitten ” 

— J oan,” said Lady Anne, I think, my dar- 
ling, you are talking too much.” 

Fans and gloves were picked up early, and the 
ladies sailed from the room to prepare for the 
theatricals. 

The play was very clever, with that unex- 
pected cleverness which always astonished Chris- 
tina in the silly folk whom she met in England. 
It was abominably acted, and every one was de- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M'NAB 121 


lighted with his or her own performance. Captain 
Stonor did a skirt dance which brought the house 
down, and Dickie entirely forgot the two sentences 
which he had to speak — he waited for the prompt- 
er’s assistance, and then walked across to the wings, 
remarking in a loud voice, I cannot hear a word 
you say.” These were mere trifles! 

Mrs. Weeks, who wrote a report of the even- 
ing’s entertainment to the local paper, described 
it as being one of the most successful perform- 
ances which have ever taken place in our neigh- 
bourhood.” “ It was difficult,” she went on, “ in 
the face of so much excellence, to decide who 
should bear away the palm for skill in acting. 
Miss Campbell had shown a knowledge of her 
part which was beyond all praise; while Miss An- 
struther,” etc., etc. Each person — singly and sev- 
erally — got a tribute of praise — not only in Mrs. 
Weeks’ report, but in the general plaudits which 
followed 'No Wonder Bunkins Smiled. Bunkins, 
himself — poor man — was divided between a desire 
to look broken-hearted for the sake of Miss M^Nab, 
and the necessity for appearing as happy and jolly 
as the exigencies of the play demanded. It was 
a horrible situation, and Bunkins wavered for a 
little time between a face of woe and one of 
jollity. At length, inspired by a brilliant idea, 
he contrived to whisper to Miss M^Nab, Remem- 
ber, I am an actor before everything! ” 

The evening closed with dancing, in which 
every one took part in their theatrical costumes. 


122 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

The Lancers were, according to Dickie’s instruc- 
tions, as kitchen as they could possibly be ” ; the 
polka was polked at racing speed; Sir Roger de 
Coverley developed into a romp; and even waltzes 
were conducted with giddy rapidity. 

The Misses Lumley, with their long hair fly- 
ing, were whirling down the room with this man 
and with that. Lilah Anstruther — ^ladylike, neat, 
and smiling — could still look ladylike, neat, and 
smiling after having rushed through Sir Roger in 
her milkmaid’s dress. Judith Campbell, with 
cheeks like red roses, was at every one’s demand, 
and had given away waltzes and polkas indiscrim- 
inately, leaving her partners to fight it out when 
the dances began. Only Christina, in her awful 
gentility, and with her Academy ” steps, and her 
high black silk dress, seemed to be a failure. 

She stood by the doorway, accepting invita- 
tions to dance, with formality, and walking 
through the figures of the Lancers in an exact and 
measured way. She went into supper, and uttered 
a few platitudes over her glass of lemonade, made 
her monosyllabic answers with the truthfulness of 
the Scottish born, lagged after Dick in his wildest 
gallopadings, and was overlooked by every one 
except those whom kindness and courtesy sent in 
her way. 

The band stopped at last, the lights were put 
out, carriages rolled away on the crunching gravel 
by the hall door, girls finished their laughter and 
jokes — finished throwing Christmas roses playful- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 123 


Ij across the hall at some departing guest — and 
went back to the ball-room and danced at last in 
the dark, Dickie thumping on the piano, and a 
few couples colliding against each other in one 
last light-hearted round of jollity. Bedroom can- 
dles were lit, and Lilah Anstruther blew them all 
out again in a playful, ladylike way which made 
nobody smile. Eyes looked bright, or loving, or 
coquettish above the flame of the candle, as the 
procession went upstairs; and Christina followed 
them, the last of all, and went soberly to her bed. 
First of all, she had a long cry — a cry that sound- 
ed even through the pocket-handkerchief she 
pressed to her face — a lonely, bitter, disappointed, 
girlish cry, without any stint of tears. And then 
Christina, with her red hair falling about her and 
lying in ripples of foam about her white shoulders, 
raised her head from the pillow in which she had 
buried her face, and rising and taking a long de- 
flant look into the mirror by her side, clenched 
her white flsts, and exclaimed, '' I wonH play at 
this any longer! I’ll just be myself, and I don’t 
care what they say. A flg for Mrs. Blake and 
her snubbing, aristocratic ways! I will be Scotch 

— I’ll be d d Scotch — and I’ll make it the 

fashion too! ” 


9 


CHAPTER YIII 


Christina went first of all and consulted Lilab 
Anstruther on the subject of clothes. “ I do not 
think I am quite grand enough/’ she said simply, 
and I really would like to spend some money, 
if you would advise me what to get.” 

‘^My dear,” cried Lilah delightedly, “I have 
dressed you in imagination a dozen times, and it 
won’t take me five minutes to advise you what to 
get. Trouble! I love it. Go to my woman; she 
will do anything for a friend of mine. We ought 
to telegraph in the first instance, and write by 
the early post.” 

The telegram cost ten shillings to send (it was 
well worth the amount) and the morning was 
spent in Miss Anstruther’s room with a maid, who 
measured and snipped, and cut out muslin patterns 
and bodice shapes and skirt lengths with admirable 
skill and all-absorbed interest. As none of Chris- 
tina’s own dresses were a good fit, these were not 
sent as a guide to the dressmaker; but the clever- 
fingered maid put in bones, took out pleats, and 
manipulated yards of stiff muslin into wonderful 
patterns. 


124 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 125 


Don’t let us tell any one about this,” said 
Lilah with girlish excitement. “ Madame Parkins 
will send some of your things immediately, I 
know; and you’ll let me do your hair the first 
night, won’t you?” 

“ I’m just as pretty as ever I was,” said Chris- 
tina simply; I do not care what Colin says to 
the contrary. I think it has just been my black 
clothes that have made me look so queer-like and 
dowdy.” 

She had relapsed into her native Scotch dia- 
lect, and words came to her more easily in that 
language. 

“ You are lovely,” said Lilah, kissing her. 

Just wait till the boxes arrive! ” 

And when these interesting boxes actually did 
arrive, with fans and gloves, and silk stockings, and 
lace petticoats and gowns, J essie and Christina 
walked round the bed where they were laid, with a 
sort of solemn reverence in their steps. Item num- 
ber one: a mysterious black dress, unrelieved with 
a touch of white, and looking like a night cloud, 
soft and dim. Item number two: a dress of pure 
white crepe, its only ornament a flashing silver 
girdle. Item number three : a dress of white chif- 
fon, so soft and fine that it looked as though one 
might draw it through a wedding-ring; but when 
worn it shook itself out in cloudy billows and rip- 
pled waves, and drifted to the floor in white foam. 
Item number four: a picture dress that recalled 
some old oil-painting, with a broad sash, and a 


126 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


tiny black ribbon round the neck. Then, hats 
with drooping feathers; fans of gauze with paint- 
ings upon them; satin shoes and kid gloves. 

“ Whether in mourning or not,’’ said Lilah, as 
she dressed her on the evening that the dresses 
arrived, you must never wear anything but black 
or white, my dear. The only bit of colour about 
you ought to be in your hair and in your cheeks. 
Oh, but you are going to be splendid! ” she cried, 
retreating a few steps back from the work of her 
hands and surveying it delightedly. Just one 
more hairpin. I wish my hair grew in waves like 
this. Please, never, never put it into those stiff 
plaits again. Will you wait for me while I dress, 
and let’s go down to dinner together? 'No, I 
shan’t be late. Dinner is a little later to-night, 
as Anne has had a telegram from Southwark to 
say that he is coming.” She flew down the corri- 
dor, and knocked at Judith Campbell’s door. 

Pve got a revelation for you all to-night,” she 
cried. Put on your oldest gown, J u, and let us 
act as foils to the heiress! ” 

My good woman,” replied Miss Campbell, 
I have two gowns, on which I have wrung the 
changes ever since I came to Poplar’s Court. It 
is true I have tried to deceive you all by means 
of flchus and flowers, that my dresses occasionally 
varied, but I cannot think that I have ever de- 
ceived you upon this subject, and I consider your 
request superfluous.” 

You always look an angel,” said Lilah, kiss- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 127 


ing her; wear the black gown to-night without 
the fichu.’’ She hastened on to her own room 
and told her maid to put away the rose-coloured 
satin that lay in readiness on the bed, and ordered 
her brown evening dress. “ We must all be 
dimmed to-night, Dickson,” she said, and Miss 
M‘^7ab must shine.” She finished her toilet as the 
gong sounded, and went to fetch Christina from 
her room. 

They crossed the hall together, but Christina 
paused at the door of the reception-room. “ I’m 
hlate,^ she said shyly. 

^^Late? I’m rather glad we are late,” said 
Lilah darkly. She was full of good-natured ex- 
citement at the surprise she had in store for her 
friends, and gave Christina a playful push to make, 
her go first into the room. 

It was the custom at Poplar’s Court to assem- 
ble for dinner in a room called the Gallery. The 
pictures that had once hung there had most of 
them disappeared long ago to pay Dickie’s debts 
in his bachelor days; but the natural beauty of 
the room did not require any ornament. The 
ceiling of heavy carved oak had a massive cornice, 
and the panels of the walls were carved with 
quaint devices. The windows were high up in the 
walls, and the floors were of black polished wood, 
l^earer the large fireplace the room had a more 
inhabited air. Its principal use nowadays was to 
be a music room; and a piano, a harp, some tall 
screens, and various musical instruments were col- 


128 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

lected there. The room was lit with candles, and 
the door was at the farther end. 

Lilah had heralded her coming with her pretty 
ladylike laugh, and the eyes of the company were 
drawn towards the entrance. Down the long gal- 
lery came Christina in all her loveliness. The 
clinging diaphanous white gown fell about her with 
something of the gracefulness and ease of falling 
water. It trailed behind her, and was reflected 
in long smooth white streaks on the dark floor. 
Some one who was poetically inclined said that 
Christina looked like some lovely swan sailing over 
dark water. Slowly, with reluctant feet, the girl 
came up the long vista of the beautiful room. Her 
misty red hair was rolled into a knot and hung 
low on her neck — in colour like burnished copper. 
A pink flush had flamed up into her face, and a 
shy consciousness of her own beauty made her 
grey eyes dim. 

^^By George! it’s Miss M^Nab,” said Dickie. 
At first no one had known who it was. It was 
difficult to restrain him from public congratu- 
lation at the sight of so much beauty; and it 
was next to impossible not to stare at the float- 
ing white figure, crowned with the burnished 
hair. 

Great Scott ! ” exclaimed Bunkins, and he 
began to feel his disappointment of a few days 
ago keenly. 

Mrs. Blake said in her sharp way, My dear, 
what have you done with yourself? ” and thought 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 129 


she would take Christina out in London next 
season. 

Barny found a seat for her on an oak settle 
out of range of the battery of eyes: We cannot 
help staring at you to-night/’ he said (because 
it was so very obvious that everybody was star- 
you’ve got on a very pretty gown, haven’t 

you? ” 

It was Miss Anstruther’s choice,” faltered 
Christina, hanging her head; I never wore a low 
gown before now.” 

You shouldn’t have kept this dark,” said Ju- 
dith, passing her with a good-natured little pinch. 

To-morrow I shall raid your bedroom, and find 
what else you’ve got.” 

Then they all stood up to go in to dinner; and 
Lady Anne said, “ I am afraid Southwark cannot 
be coming.” But just then the duke — otherwise 
called Tim,” after one of his country seats, Tim- 
worth Castle in the shires — entered the room. He 
was a happy, clean-looking boy with red hair; and 
he shook hands in a hearty smiling way with sev- 
eral friends in the group by the fire. 

Anne said, My brother Southwark, Miss 
M^Hab,” and the duke shook hands, and said some- 
thing which sounded like, “Ha ah ya? ” 

There had been some exchange of cotillon 
rosettes in the interval before dinner, when the 
pairing of couples to go into the dining-room 
had been decided; and the duke of Southwark 
now handed Christina a ribbon, and said, “ They 


130 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


tell me the white rosette belongs to you, Miss 

I went in to dinner to-night on the duke’s 
arm,” Christina wrote that night in her letter to 
Scotland, and every one said that there was no 
one as pretty as me in all the room ! The duke is 
a very nice young man, and we had plenty of 
conversation together.” To which letter an an- 
swer came back in the course of a few days, say- 
ing: You had better set your cap at the duke; 
he’s better than a lord, and he might be glad of 
your tocher, as I hear he is very poor.” Wishing 
her all success, Colin remained her affectionate 
friend. 

That evening at Popples was the pleasantest, 
as it was the last, of the house-party. And the 
triumph of it was all Christina’s. Her low-spoken 
remarks were full of native wit, and were asked 
for again and again: What does she say? What 
was that. Miss M^Nab? ” Every one wanted to 
listen to Christina. She was surrounded by a 
group of gentlemen after dinner, and had an an- 
swer for every one of their sallies — shy spoken, 
it is true, but full of pawky ” humour, which 
was irresistible. Her Scottish accent was delight- 
ful, and her beauty had all the fascination of nov- 
elty, even of discovery. 

^^And to think it’s the last night,” Bunkins 
murmured to himself, if only we had been stay- 
ing a little longer I might have had another 
chance.” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 131 


One of Christina’s crowd of admirers was try- 
ing to engage her attention by a little mild chaif 
about her Scottish descent ; and the girl had begun 
to tell a story of the Clan M^Nab. 

You know you were all cattle-lifters and rob- 
bers/’ said the chaffing admirer. 

“ W e were cattle-lifters and robbers to some 
purpose,” answered Christina; and with an ador- 
able mixture of shyness and pride, she began to 
tell the story of the Clan ^N^eish and the 
irhTabs:— 

The M^Nabs had been across the hills to the 
town for their winter provisions, when the Clan 
Keish overtook them in numbers that could not be 
gainsaid, and they fought all that day till they 
were sore spent, and many of the red tartans were 
lying on the ground. And when they came back 
to their castle and the old chief, they were a 
very small band indeed, and all the provisions 
were gone ” 

Proveesions ! ” murmured one man of the 
the group, in an aside, isn’t she delightful ? ” — 

When the old chief heard about it, he said 
nothing at all, and the women-folk came and 
bound up the wounds of their lads, and they were 
all for revenging themselves upon the Clan ^Teish. 
But the old chief never gave them the word to 
fight; so they fretted, and nursed their wounds till 
far on into the winter when the days were short. 
And at last, one night the old chief rose up in 
his place — the night was mirk and stormy, and 


132 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


the hills were covered with snow — he rose up and 
went to the door and looked out into the dark- 
ness, and then he said quite slowly: ^ The nicht 
was the nicht, if the lads were the lads! ’ They 
needed no second bidding, for they had been im- 
patient for long and long, and they wanted no 
other word from the chief; but they got their 
great boat which lay in the loch, and they put 
their strong shoulders to it, and carried that boat 
right over to the far loch, which is the loch of 
the Neishs. They launched her at the mouth of 
the Glen, where the river flows down into the 
waters, and they came with great surprise upon 
the E^eishs who were feasting in their hall, and 
smote them every one, till there was no Clan ^^^eish 
left at all ’’ 

Bravo, Clan M^l^ab! ’’ said some one. — 

And when they would be getting home to 
their own castle hall,’’ went on Christina, “ the old 
man was waiting for them just as they had left 
him, looking for them to come back across the 
hills. So they laid their spoils at his feet, and 
told the number of the slain to him, and spoke 
of the maidens they had brought home with them, 
and the household stuffs and the silver, and all the 
fame of it. And the old man said, ^ The nicht 
was the nicht, and the lads were the lads,’ and the 
M^l^abs were content.” 

That was a gran’ story,” said the duke, as 
Christina finished. He asked her to give him some 
lessons in the Scottish tongue; but she reminded 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 133 


him that he ought first to learn to speak English 
as it was written. 

Quite good; quite good! ’’ chorussed the rest 
of the party — speaking the words in the short, 
clipping, fashionable way, which reminds one a 
little of the quacking of a duck. 

And then, Alice Maynard, who did not think 
that so much attention was quite good for Chris- 
tina, suggested that they should play a game in 
which each person tells a part of the story, and 
stops where he likes, his neighbour being obliged 
to take up the thread of the tale and continue it 
where it is left off. 

“Women always choose these sort of games,’’ 
grumbled Mr. V enables, “ they know they can 
play them far better than men can, and they get 
beastly little bits of paper and pencils, and you 
have to think about some infernal rhyme or the 
name of a town or something, just when you want 
to spend a happy evening, and not to be both- 
ered.” 

“ E'o paper or pencils required,” said Alice, 
settling the company into a group, “ one only has 
to tell the story in turn.” 

She began a sentimental tale about a knight 
and his lady-love; and there seemed to be some 
beautiful parable running all through it, which 
yet it was quite impossible to catch. 

Bunkins took up the thread of the tale by 
saying, “ The knight loved the lady more than he 
could ever find words to say.” He looked un- 


134 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


/ 

utterable things at Christina, and declared that his 
part of the story was finished. “ Go on,’’ he said 
in a sepulchral tone, and gave Mr. Drummond a 
shove 

So they went to the castle together,” went 
on Dickie, and there they lived, feeling awfully 
fit and jolly and happy. They had three sweet 
kids ... I believe I’m bringing the story to an 
end too suddenly,” he said, pulling himself up. 

Besides, you know, you- haven’t married 
them yet,” said the duke. 

Anne, I didn’t say that,” said Dickie, turning 
to his wife. 

Anne smiled, and said, Let’s go back to 
the wood, Dickie, where the knight finds the 
lady.” 

Well, he found her,” pursued Dickie, “ there 
were heaps of chaperons everywhere about, and 
the lady rode on a milk-white steed. One of the 
chaperons — it was a most curious thing — turned 
out to be the knight’s mother ... I don’t think 
I will go on, Anne; I am certain I shall put my 
foot in it,” finished the historian lamely. 

J udith continued : — The lady was a ripper. 
She had hair which fell down far past her waist, 
and she rode on a milk-white steed. They rode 
till they came to the castle, and they went inside, 
and there was a beautiful dinner spread out for 
them ” 

I want to go on now,” said Dickie, because 
I know this is a bit I can do. — There was a per- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 135 


fectly beautiful dinner; the wines were all of the 
very best vintage, and there were stewed ortolans, 
quails, and aspic, boar’s head, omelette done with 
that awfully nice rum sauce, you know, and boned 
turkey with chestnuts — I forgot the soup. There 
was ” 

Oh, some one sit on Dickie’s head,” said Lord 
Hardcastle, “ it’s your turn, Mrs. Blake.” 

“ The story has been most uninteresting so 
far,” said Mrs. Blake, “ I am going to try and 
put a little adventure into it. — After dinner was 
over, and the cloth had been removed by invisible 
hands, the knight and lady went out into the gar- 
den in the dazzling moonlight. Here they found 
a ball going on ” — (“ They are quite losing sight 
of my little parable,” whispered Alice to Anne) 
— and all the knights and esquires for miles 
around had come to it. A beautiful invisible 
band played under the trees. How, it so happened 
that a wicked fairy had been asked to come to the 
party — no, she had not been asked, she had come 
without an invitation — and she said to the foot- 
man at the door that she was a friend of the 
family. And she suddenly raised her wand and 
turned all the knights present into enormous green 
frogs. — How, you go on, duke.” — 

The duke cleared his throat. So the frogs 
began running races ” (he was a sporting man), 
“ and the biggest frog could jump six feet at one 
bound, but he was heavily handicapped because 
one of the rules of the course was that if you 


136 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


could jump six feet at a bound, you bad to carry 

so many stone, don’t you know? ” 

“ You didn’t say the frogs were being ridden 
by anything,” interrupted Dickie. 

“ Oh, well, they were ; they were being ridden 

by the ladies, who had all turned into mice ” 

And how many stone did they put on to the 
mouse who rode the high jumper? ” inquired Mr. 
Drummond, who liked to be exact in these things. 

^^Well, you see, the handicapper was rather 
a queer chap,” said the duke, rubbing his head in 
perplexity, “ the handicapper was a jackdaw, and 

lived quite close ” 

What was the jackdaw before it was turned 
into a jackdaw? ” asked Judith Campbell. 

I do not think it was anything except an 
egg,” replied the duke. You see the jackdaw 
didn’t belong to the Jockey Club — I mean the 

fairy didn’t, the jackdaw did all right ” 

“ I wish you’d get your frogs started, old man,” 
said Barnabas. 

The duke began again. — W ell, they sprinted, 
and they sprinted, and they sprinted, but the odd 
part of it all was that although it was a flat race, 

being frogs, they had to jump ” 

“ Tim,” said Lady George, “ I think you are 
getting a little involved. Don’t you think Anne 
had better go on? ” 

Anne thought she ought to try, for dear 
Alice’s sake to bring the story back into an im- 
proving parable. She said — “ The rule of the race 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 137 


was that whoever won was turned back into a 
knight again, and his rider, the mouse, into a beau- 
tiful lady. ]^ow, if these two had loved each 
other always very dearly, and continued to be 
faithful and true, they had the power of restoring 
every one else to their original shape again.’’ 

“ The power of love,” murmured Alice senti- 
mentally. 

Christina had been wondering what she could 
say when it came to her turn to contribute her 
paragraph to the idiotic story. She leant her chin 
on her hand, deeply cogitating. The smart im- 
becilities of the English always seemed' so abso- 
lutely beyond her. Say something kind,” whis- 
pered Bunkins in her ear, in a sentimental voice. 
Anne looked at her encouragingly. 

I’m afraid,” said Christina slowly, that the 
knight and the lady did not love each other well 
enough, so the frogs and the mice remained frogs 
and mice.” 

And Bunkins said, That’s too cruel.” 

The story now got into inextricable confusion, 
owing principally to the fact that whenever it 
came to Dickie’s turn to relate a portion of it, 
the subject matter was always that of food, while 
the duke’s as invariably turned to sport. Alice 
made acrobatic efforts to return to the parable; 
and Captain Stonor having, at the eleventh hour, 
introduced a perfectly new character into the 
story in the person of a tutor (he was called a 
tutor, because he was living in a Tudor house) 


138 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

who wore false teeth, which he always lost at 
the critical moment, it was felt that the limitations 
of the art of fiction had been attained. 

And Alice said, I have always felt that I 
could write a book if only I had time for it. 
Good-night.’’ 


CHAPTER IX 

All the guests left Poplar’s Court the follow- 
ing day, except the Duke of Southwark, who ex- 
ercised his privilege as a brother, and a late-comer, 
to remain on a little longer. He was delighted 
with Christina’s beauty, and her wit, and he wrote 
long accounts of both in his daily letters to the 
girl he was not engaged to. The duke had not 
seen Christina in her chrysalis state ; he had arrived 
on the night of her triumph, when she had emerged 
and spread her white wings to the sunshine of 
approval that greeted her development. He had 
joined in the general chorus of praise at once, and 
continued it heartily when the rest of the chorus 
had departed. 

Meanwhile Popples had returned to its normal 
state — its pristine dulness ” as Dickie called it. 
The hired servants took their departure, and John 
emerged from his room to take his accustomed 
place downstairs again. Joan returned to her les- 
sons, and Dickie was absorbed in the construction 
of new pigstys, built on an approved plan of his 
own, and he spent all his days watching their 
construction. Anne redoubled her attentions — 
10 139 


140 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


which had, of necessity, lapsed a little lately — to 
the invalid, and the duke constituted himself 
Christina’s companion and guide, and his delighted 
laugh could be heard all over the house whenever 
he and she were together. He drove her about 
the country in the little cart which had been the 
scene of Bunkins’ declaration; and Christina, hav- 
ing decided with her usual calmness and decision, 
that a duke was exactly what she wanted, encour- 
aged the young man in a calm business-like way 
which was as unlike coquetry or flirting as any 
commercial transaction of the late lamented maker 
of tubes could be. Christina wanted a duke; the 
duke wanted a fortune. What could be more 
sensible than that each should suit him and her- 
self, when the pleasant fulfilment of their wishes 
was in each case ready to hand. When, therefore, 
Tim said to her, I wish you knew my mother. 
Miss M^Hab; you would make her laugh, and I 
know she would like you immensely ” ; Christina 
replied, She had better ask me to stay with her.” 
And Tim, delighted, promised that the invitation 
should be forthcoming. When he suggested that 
Christina should give him her photograph, she re- 
plied with something of the promptitude of a 
tradesman whose custom has been sought — Sair- 
tainly, with pleasure! ” and went up to her room 
that moment to fetch it. Hever was a lady less 
coy or bashful I The duke called her the frankest, 
j oiliest girl he had ever met — such a come-at-able 
sort of girl, and yet she never rushed you as some 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 141 


girls did! She was very accommodating; one day 
as he leant over her in the little pony-cart to tnck 
in the rugs with his big hands in their huge dog- 
skin gloves, it just suggested itself to him to won- 
der whether if he asked Christina for a kiss, it 
would be given to him with the same willingness 
as were the other favours he requested of her. 
But he refrained in time, thinking that the girl 
he was not engaged to might not like it. He 
said to her instead, Do write to me sometimes 
when I go away; it would be ripping of you, and 
I am sure your letters would be awfully amusing 
and jolly.’^ 

And Christina said, “ Sairtainly ! ” and with 
her admirable business-like ways produced a 
pocket-book, and took down his address. Why 
pretend that you were not pleased to write to a 
duke, if the exercise gave you satisfaction? She 
would write to him. Yes! She would also give to 
him — had given to him her photograph. But was 
not the affair progressing rather in friendliness 
than in what might strictly speaking be called 
love! Jessie thought so. It would be under- 
stating the case to say that Jessie was a privileged 
servant. She was one who was self-enfranchised 
to say and do exactly as she pleased upon every 
given occasion. She had brought Christina up 
when the girks mother died, and this proceeding 
would seem to warrant the liberty and indulgence 
in free speech to which there is no limit. In her 
eyes Christina was still a child, and her love for 


142 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


lier had about it that something maternal which 
is both protective and didactic. Jessie watched 
the whole campaign with deepest interest, and one 
evening as she sat in Christina’s arm-chair by the 
fire, during the hour which she spent with that 
young lady before dinner, and during which time 
she faithfully retailed all the gossip of the house- 
keeper’s room, with her own comments thereupon, 
she said, “ Hoots ! lassie, it’s my belief you’re no 
half romantic enough. Your puir mither had your 
papaw in half the time that you and the Juke 
take to think about it. And there wad be val- 
entines between them, and posies, and what not. 
He wad read poetry to her tae, oot in the gairden 
in the gleamin’; and that is a gran’ thing as I 
understand for making your lad come forward. 
Talk about the fields or the hills, or something in 
nature! a man canna resist that, and I will lend 
you a book with verses I’ve got, with suitable 
quotations.” 

“You’ve never got a husband yourself, Jes- 
sie,” said Christina sharply. 

But the next day when driving Avith the duke, 
she experimented upon Jessie’s advice. First of 
all she unbuttoned her jacket, and handed him 
some flowers she wore, remarking matter-of-fact- 
ly, “ There’s a bunch of violets for you.” 

“ How sweet of you! ” said Tim, and fastened 
them into his coat. “ Did you get these for me? ” 

“Jessie pulled them,” said Christina truth- 
fully. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 143 


Then youVe both been sweet,” said Tim im- 
partially. 

Conversation did not flow quite so easily this 
afternoon. Christina was painfully preparing ro- 
mantic utterances, which she was too shy to bring 
forth, and the effort of constructing them tied her 
tongue meanwhile. 

“ The sky is looking sort of red to-night,” she 
said at last. 

Yes, awf’ly jolly,” said the duke. 

And the trees are not so bad — for Eng- 
land! ” 

“For England, eh? Ha-ha! ” 

Christina wished she had not refused Jessie’s 
offer of a book of verse with suitable quotations. 
She scraped her throat, and said, “ I like flowers, 
do you? ” 

“ Awf ’ly, yes ! ” 

“ They are so full of poetry,” hazarded Chris- 
tina. 

“ Chock full,” said Tim. “ How awf’ly clever 
of you to think of flowers being full of poetry! 
It is an awf’ly jolly idea, I think.” 

“ Though I do not know a bit what it means,” 
said Christina, relapsing into truthfulness as usual. 

“ Oh, come, I think there’s a lot in it. It 
means if you see a rose, or a gardenia, or a peach 
or anything, you feel inclined to write verses about 
it — at least if you are the sort of chap that is 
taken that way. I never wrote two lines in my 
life, myself.” 


144 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

I adore green gooseberries/’ said Christina. 
They found that it was a weakness of both from 
childhood, and the bond was a strong one. The 
duke had never been allowed to eat the skins. 
Were the same restrictions imposed upon Chris- 
tina? Yes, precisely. At one time Jessie used 
to count the grosettes,” and afterwards count the 
skins to see that none had been swallowed. 

How interesting! ” s^id the duke. 

There is something very soothing in hearing 
that one’s infantile experiences regarding green 
gooseberries are interesting, and it is exhilarating 
to have one’s smallest jokes — one’s most innocent, 
matter-of-fact remarks met with applause and 
laughter. 

When the duke left Poplar’s Court, Christina 
missed him very much. The house felt empty and 
dull without his delightful laugh, his cheery whis- 
tle and snatches of songs — out of tune — from the 
Belle of Hew York, and the hearty, healthy look 
which, the young man carried about with him 
everywhere. Christina felt decidedly dull, and 
Jessie exclaimed with a burst of delighted pleas- 
ure, Lassie, you’re in love.” This was a new 
aspect of the affair, and Christina cherished it. 
It warranted her thinking of the duke, and writing 
him long letters nearly every day. The days were 
longer now, and more spring-like ; the pigstys were 
finished, and Mr. Drummond talked of nothing 
but bulbs. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 146 


Christina had no idea until she came to share 
in English country-house life that one single topic 
of conversation could be made to go so far, or do 
duty for so many conversations. When pigstys 
were uppermost in Mr. Drummond’s thoughts, 
pigstys — three particular pigstys — could be made 
the subject for earnest discussion at breakfast- 
time, at luncheon-time, and again at dinner. If 
the Weeks’ had influenza, one not only heard daily 
how the Weeks’ were getting on, but most persons 
when they came to call remarked soon after they 
had entered the drawing-room, I suppose you 
know the Weeks’ have got influenza? ” and the 
matter was discussed from every possible point of 
view. In the summer time, the delinquencies of 
the head-gardener were generally the accompani- 
ment for every meal, not those of one summer in 
particular, when the gardener was particularly 
bad, or his delinquencies more than usually glar- 
ing, but in each recurring summer, and as fresh 
vegetables came into season, the same remarks 
were made with unfailing punctuality — “ I saw 
plenty of asparagus in the garden this morning; 
why does not Smith bring it in? The strawberries 
are wasting; is Mrs. Jones going to make it into 
jam, or should Mr. Drummond try to sell them 
in Hoeford, or should he simply sit still and allow 
himself to be ruined, as was generally the case ? ” 
The Penny Reading had furnished mental food 
for many a long day, and the comment thereupon. 
We had quite a pleasant evening at the Weeks’ 


146 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

the other night,” was spoken with an air of fresh- 
ness and novelty every morning at breakfast for 
days after. That the newly-planted apple-trees 
had come unstaked in a recent storm was matter, 
not only of conversation, but of vivid excitement 
to the whole household. Mr. Drummond was gen- 
erally to be seen at an early hour on the morning- 
after a high wind (it was indeed generally sup- 
posed that Dickie was with difficulty restrained 
from rising in the middle of the night on these 
occasions) hatless and excited, racing towards the 
orchards to discover whether his fool of a bailiff 
had really allowed the apple-trees to break away 
from the stakes as he apprehended. On the days 
following these early mornings, the apple-trees 
and apple-tree stakes had it all their own way. 
The conversational pathway was strewn, as it 
were, with apple-trees, and their dependent or in- 
dependent stakes, and it was impossible to dislodge 
them from it. And it often happened that when 
the evening lamps were lit, Dickie would with 
fresh vigour begin, as if stating an important piece 
of news, I had to see about those apple-trees 
this morning ” ; and the bailiffs, and the apple- 
trees, and the stakes were once more piled on the 
top of each other, and blocked the entire horizon. 
In March, as regularly as March came round, the 
topic of conversation, not only at Poplar’s Court, 
but at all the neighbouring houses where Chris- 
tina visited, the talk was of bulbs. Christina had 
never known before that so many words could be 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 147 


spoken upon this one particular subject. It was 
the greeting when friend met friend in the lane, 
How are the bulbs? ’’ and the most inclement 
and irritating form of wet weather was hailed 
cheerfully when it was good for the bulbs. (Blow 
the bulbs!) Even Anne, on being asked how her 
husband was, would generally reply, Oh, he is 
very well indeed, thank you; he is so interested 
about his bulbs at present,’’ as though Dickie’s 
health depended for some mysterious reason upon 
tulips and hyacinths. The crocuses had flamed 
upwards like little points of fire under the trees 
in the park, and had been visited every day with 
ceremony by the whole party, although they could 
be distinctly seen from the dining-room windows. 
Hyacinths and Lent lilies had taken their place, 
and now some undressed-looking flesh-coloured 
tulips “ for their morning sup of heavenly verdure 
from the soil looked up ” and wrapped green 
leaves about their throats, to protect themselves 
from the chilly winds of spring. The mud in the 
country roads was deeper than ever now, but to 
the agricultural mind the season was everything 
that could be desired. And Christina, as she took 
her daily constitutional with Dickie, used to listen 
to his self-congratulations thereon : “ It’s been a 
capital season in every way,” said Dickie, with 
his usual optimism. “ There was that touch of 
frost early in the month when all the pipes froze 
— just what we wanted. How here is lovely open 
weather, more like May than April; I have never 


148 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


known the bulbs do better. Have you seen tbe 
border of red tulips in the kitchen-garden walk 
this morning? We might walk up that way, if 
you care about it; and then I should just like to 
go round by the pigstys.” Did Christina know 
that old hog which he had let the butcher at Hoe- 
ford have at Christmas time, weighed twenty-five 
score. Hot a pound less; twenty-five score did 
that hog weigh! “We might just run back to 
the house for the sticks, don’t you think? They 
like having their backs scratched.” 

Christina and Mr. Drummond gravely 
scratched the pigs’ backs for some ten minutes, 
and the family life and upbringing of little pigs was 
frankly discussed. They then went home to tea. 

“ To-morrow,” said Mr. Drummond cheerily, 
“ I think we might walk along the Much-Benham 
road, instead of the Hoeford road; it will be a 
nice change.” 

Either it was dull, or Christina was in love. 
She cherished the latter explanation. The greater 
part of her mornings were usually passed in John 
Churchill’s room. A curious teasing friendship 
had grown up between these two, and nothing 
brightened the invalid man more than Christina’s 
quick repartee and ready wit. To the rest of the 
world John was still the sad, quiet man he ever 
was; but Dick and his wife had the key to his 
sadness, and Christina’s beauty and freshness were 
something pleasant to look forward to in the morn- 
ing hours. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 149 


Anne said to her apologetically, “ Dick and I 
would like so much to have another little house- 
party, but I am really afraid Mr. Churchill is 
hardly strong enough for it.’’ 

“ John has just got one of his little bad times,” 
said Dickie quickly. “ He has got such a good 
constitution that he feels these little ups and 
downs, but he will be all right in a day or two.” 

“ Still, I think we might have a few friends 
to dinner,” said Anne kindly. Is there any one 
in particular you would care about asking to 
come? ” 

“ Thank you,” said Christina, I should be 
glad if your brother could come.” 

I’ll ask him,” said Anne, “ he may be able 
to run down for the night, and we could have the 
Weeks’ and Miss Lumley, and one or two of our 
other neighbours.” 

The duke did come down for the night, and 
the Weeks’ accepted with pleasure, the Lumleys 
with pleasure if their horses had recovered from 
colds — a few other neighbours with the same pleas- 
ure, and with the variety of conditions imposed 
upon accepting any invitation in the country. 
(Oh, for a few cabs, some street lamps, and solid 
pavements!) 

The duke arrived by the 4.15 train, bringing 
with him an atmosphere of good humour and jol- 
lity which seemed inseparable from the fresh- 
looking, red-headed young man. He had news to 
tell of every one, which he allowed to burst forth 


150 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


in the intervals of helping himself to fresh muf- 
fins and pound cake. His face red, wet, and shiny 
after a drive from the station in stinging rain, 
beamed cheerfully over his tea-cup, and his honest 
blue eyes with their light lashes and sandy brows 
were full of a frank enjoyment which had some- 
thing infectious in it. The young Duke of South- 
wark was a person whom the world treated very 
well. It had smiled upon him from his birth, 
and he had smiled back upon it confidently. The 
rubs or snubs which had beset the path of other 
young men had never been experienced by him. 
He took his poverty light-heartedly, and he had 
by nature so few extravagant tastes that it cost 
him very little self-sacrifice to live on “ twopence 
a year paid quarterly,’’ which was all he said he 
possessed. He was an honest-hearted English 
youth, free from care, and without a morbid 
thought in his head. His brain power could per- 
haps best be described by the simple device of a 
circle O, but then nearly all the best fellows he 
knew were fools, so it really didn’t matter much. 
A pillow-fight in the corridors in the dark, or a 
big night at Mess with plenty of “ ragging ” or 
rotting ” were his highest form of intellectual 
amusement; but no one could deny that he was 
a dear boy, and probably he did as much good 
and as little harm as any other young fellow of 
his position and power. 

But I have forgotten my best bit of news,” 
he said, slapping his knee, and with his mouth 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 151 


full of muffins, guess who is going to be mar- 
ried? Alice Maynard! ’’ 

God help the man who is joined to oor Daw- 
vid/’ said Dick, in an exaggerated Scottish accent, 
quoting the words of the old Scotchwoman who 
thus exclaimed upon hearing that her son was to 
be sent to the galleys. 

Tim shouted with laughter. I believe the 
happy man is a clergyman,’’ he said. 

He will need all the grace he can get to put 
up with Alice,” said Christina, in her matter-of- 
fact voice. She had been sorely tried by Miss 
Maynard’s patronage, and really thought that 
only a clergyman endowed with much forbearance 
could live happily with her. 

Tim laughed again, as he did upon most occa- 
sions. Had any one heard of Bunkins lately? 
Some one had told him that he was writing a new 
play — a tragedy of the deepest gloom — and that 
Bunkins was supposed to be in love with some 
one! Judith Campbell and Captain Stonor were 
really in love with each other — so people said. 
Certainly Bildad was a young man almost as poor 
as even Judith could approve. If he had to go 
through the Bankruptcy Court, as seemed more 
than likely, her friends believed that Judith would 
certainly marry him. 

Anne entered with an open letter in her hand, 
and her eyes tearful and shining. I’ve got such 
a piece of news,” she said, by the late post. 
Dear Alice is engaged to be married.” She looked 


152 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


round for sympathy, and three guilty people mur- 
mured that they hoped Miss Maynard would be 
happy. I am so delighted about it,’’ said Anne, 
furtively wiping a tear out of her eye, “ dear 
Alice is the best of women, and will make any 
man happy. Of course her life will be full of 
responsibility; fancy, five children! ” 

Five children?” said Dick. 

“ Her fiance is a widower with five children,” 
said Lady Anne, with one of her delightful 
blushes; and Dick took her hand in a sneaking 
way and kissed it. “ I am going to send you all 
off to dress for dinner at once,” she went on. 

“ Bags I the hot bath in your dressing-room, 
Dickie?” said the duke. 

— For you know there are some people com- 
ing to dine to-night.” 

Hot aborigines,” exclaimed Tim. My dear 
Anne, you should have broken this to me more 
gently. Miss M^Hab, will you sit next me, and 
hold my hand at dinner-time?” 

Sairtainly,” said Christina, then blushed, and 
added, What nonsense you talk! ” 

She put on her prettiest dress — the one copied 
from an old picture — with a narrow black velvet 
band round her white neck, and a little miniature 
pendant therefrom, and sailed down to the draw- 
ing-room to help Anne receive her guests. 

The gentlemen arrived in that state of fussy 
irritation which the act of dining with their 
friends in the country seems to arouse in the 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 153 


male breast — the mood which says as plainly as 
possible, I did not bring this suffering upon my- 
self. On my wife’s head let the penalty lie.” He 
orders the carriage early, and calls after the de- 
parting coachman in a voice that is plainly audible 
throughout the house, Do not be late, Greg- 
son ! ” His wife looks crushed, but firm, like some 
substance whose quality of resistance increases by 
being trodden upon. She has decided during the 
long drive from their own to their neighbour’s 
house that men are too selfish. She has not had 
on a decent evening gown for months, and she 
wonH — no, she wonH — give in to refusing every 
evening invitation in the future. They (the brutal 
sex) snare rabbits, or shoot game, or hunt foxes 
all day, while she sits at home, orders her hus- 
band’s dinner, writes to the Staws,” or on her 
gayest and most dissipated days takes the children 
to their dancing-class in the neighbouring town. 
And now, when for one evening a friend offers a 
variation to the domestic duet, there is all this 
fuss and bad temper! Madame enters the house 
as ill-humoured as her lord, but the ill-humour 
is of a more majestic order. She smoothes* her 
hair, and says to her image in the glass, And I 
am still a handsome woman! ” and sweeps into 
the drawing-room in front of her husband, while 
he stumbles over her train. 

Dick enjoys nothing so much as a dinner-party 
in his own house. He has arranged different 
menus every day for the last week, until the day 


154 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


before the dinner-party, when having reduced his 
cook, whom he has personally visited, to a state 
of mind bordering on insanity, he has magnani- 
mously handed over the whole show to Anne. 
His delighted welcome to each of his guests is 
slightly damped by their evident and universal 
despondency; his men friends have each told him 
in a distinctly personal, almost an insulting tone, 
that it is disgustingly cold, and an elderly colonel, 
taking up the whole of the space in front of the 
fire, has just said that he considers his own draw- 
ing-room the only warm or comfortable one in 
the entire country. The ladies shiver on the 
nether side of this substantial fire-screen, and fur- 
tively rub their bare arms, which feel chilly after 
their cold drive. 

Dinner is a success from a gastronomic point 
of view, and is appreciated and found to be con- 
solatory. The conversation is agricultural and 
meteorological. After every one has done asking 
every one else how their bulbs, their apple-trees, 
and their herbaceous borders are doing, or are 
likely to do, the weather of last week or last 
year is discussed. And the colonel, who has a 
rain gauge, contradicts the whole table upon the 
subject of the year’s rainfall. 

Agatha Lumley, whose first dinner-party this 
is, is, alas, too young to be open to the consola- 
tions of a good dinner; and after sitting in a state 
of nervous abstraction until the second entree has 
come and gone, whispers to her neighbour, I dare 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 155 


saj that you think I am an idiot, but I’m not; 
only Tm in a deuce of a fright! ” 

The duke has escorted in to dinner an elderly 
lady of a reminiscent turn of mind, who describes 
to him the rigours of the winters that she remem- 
bers some fifty years ago. 

Mrs. Weeks’ conversation even has trailed off 
into a series of fiat smiles with which she tries to 
fill up the blanks in her conversation. 

Dick, at his end of the table, chatters unceas- 
ingly and with serene enjoyment. And Anne’s 
gentle voice is raised in talking to a gentleman 
whose only hearing ear is on the side furthest re- 
moved from her. The wine is excellent, and the 
conversation is ponderous but well maintained, 
after dinner is half-way through. 

Some one says, “ I see you are cutting down 
one of the trees in your drive, colonel I ” And the 
whole company listens with absorbed interest. 

Dick said to Christina the next morning, “ Did 
you hear the colonel say that he was cutting down 
one of the trees in his drive — I wonder what that 
is for? ” And a gentleman who sat next her in 
the drawing-room after dinner, remarked, Do 
you know Badmington at all? He seems to be 
cutting down some of his trees.” 

Joan came down to dessert, on condition that 
she had had no strange dreams lately. She in- 
sisted upon reciting poetry to the assembled com- 
pany, and afterwards taking a miniature pocket- 
book from her sash, she announced that she was 
11 


156 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


getting lip a little subscription to enable her to 
buy a new doll’s bouse, and that she would be glad 
of contributions towards that end! Anne, horri- 
fied, put her arm round the child, and kissed her, 
and said she must certainly go off to bed. But her 
presence was a stimulus to questions and answers 
respecting her age, her tastes, and her pursuits, 
and her mother was entreated to allow her to re- 
main. 

Mr. Drummond was busy drawing plans of pig- 
stys on the table-cloth for the benefit of a town- 
bred young lady— the newly-married wife of an 
African gentleman who came with the Badming- 
tons, and had, probably, no interest beyond shop- 
windows and parties — who now divided her time 
between trying to follow the point of Mr. Drum- 
mond’s pencil, and to catch the eye of Lady Anne 
when that lady should give the signal to depart. 

All the ladies gave way to each other so cour- 
teously on leaving the dining-room, that it seemed 
likely that through stress of politeness they might 
be obliged to remain there all night. Till Mrs. 
Weeks, being of no rank whatever, gathered up 
her purple skirts, and gave the lead, crying, “ I 
never stand on ceremony”; and looked delighted 
with herself. 

After dinner the ladies sat in the truth-telling 
glare of many duplex lamps, by which country 
drawing-rooms are lighted. They drank coffee, 
and warmed their chilled arms by the fire, and 
began to enjoy a little intimate conversation. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 157 


They discussed antiquated scandal from the coun- 
try Vicarage point of view, the scandal which has 
come through a girl in our village, who was in 
service in such and such a place,” and the scandal, 
like a muddy stream, had flowed so long and so 
far that it had gathered a good deal of rubbish 
on its journey. It was very much worse scandal 
than is ever heard in town, and bore no resem- 
blance at all to facts nor was in any way depend- 
ent upon circumstances. Mrs. Weeks in her good- 
natured kindly voice took away the characters of 
three distinguished personages with serene enjoy- 
ment, and she knew that what she said was per- 
fectly truey “ because a girl in our village was in 
service as kitchenmaid at Mrs. Pawson’s in Park 
Lane, and a person like that would be- sure to 
know.” The date of the scandal was always fixed 
in a convenient way as having taken place the 
other day and the more conscientious of the ladies 
prefaced their wilder statements, and satisfied 
their principles of veracity, by imposing the bur- 
den of responsibility of their tales upon a mysteri- 
ous person whom they called people ” ! Peo- 
ple say this ”; and “ People say that.” E’ot even 
the girl in our village ” seemed to be quite such 
a mysterious lying spirit as “ People ” ! 

The men lingered over wine and cigarettes in 
the dining-room, and seemed fortified thereby, and 
more disposed to be complacent. They smiled be- 
neficently, looked at their watches, and decided 
that the horses ought not to be kept standing. 


158 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Dickie bounded to tbe door as soon as the first 
carriage was announced, and began to imitate the 
cries of a London linkman: 

Colonel Badmington’s carriage stops the 
way! Forward ’ere Mr. Lumley’s carriage! ’An- 
som or faw-weel, sir, etc., etc., etc.” 

His jocularity was in striking contrast with the 
evening’s sober dulness, and did not harmonise 
with it. Ho one responded to Dickie’s mirth; and 
having helped every one into their carriages in a 
jocular and obliging manner, he would — if he had 
journeyed onwards with its occupants — have 
heard the universal criticism, “ How silly ! ” 

Do not go to bed yet,” said Dick to his wife 
and Christina; (Dickie always hated going to bed) 
the night is young, let’s go into the billiard-room, 
and have a hundred up before we turn in. That 
was a very nice party, dear,” he continued, linking 
his arm in his wife’s, as they went into the billiard- 
room, “ and I think every one enjoyed themselves. 
Shall we whisk? ” he asked hospitably, holding up 
the cut-glass spirit decanter hospitably to the duke. 

This was Dickie’s usual formula when inviting 
any one to have some whisky. While Shall we 
coff ? ” although puzzling at first, was generally 
understood to mean, Shall we have some coffee? ” 
I liked all the people,” he went on, as he 
chalked his billiard cue, and speaking with that 
large-minded charity, not to say universal admira- 
tion, which distinguished him, but, my dear, who 
was that lady, all roses and giggles? the wife of the 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 159 


African gent, I mean, whom the Badmingtons 
brought with them. What sort of man was the 
husband?’^ he inquired of the duke, “I saw you 
talking to him.^’ 

“ Awful beast,^’ replied Tim, with the good- 
humoured air with which he might have expressed 
more qualified approval. He is the sort of chap 
who calls a dinner-napkin a serviette ! ’’ 

“ How hopeless ! ’’ said Dickie. 

“ I did not know any one ever called them 
that,’’ said Lady Anne. 

“ Oh yes, they do,” replied Dick, “ shop-walk- 
ers do — the sort of person who says ^ Sign, sir,’ 
and people who dine next you at restaurants. 
Anne,” with one of his quick changes of conversa- 
tion, we must certainly supply Mr. W eeks with 
handkerchiefs -when he comes to dine. How that 
man sniffed! He had a carbolic smoke-ball with 
him in his coat pocket, because I happened to see 
it when he took out his comforter. Mrs. Weeks 
meant to sing; she had a whole bundle of music 
with her, including ‘ The Tin Gee-gee.’ ” 

“ Oh, Dickie,” said Anne in consternation, 
why did no one think of asking her? I am 
afraid she will feel a little hurt.” 

“ I knew she had the music all the time,” said 
Mr. Drummond, “ because J oan and I were watch- 
ing from the gallery to see every one arrive, and 
we heard Mrs. Weeks say, ‘Hide it under your 
coat, Willie, in case I am not asked to sing.’ ” 
“You bad Dickie,” said Anne fondly, “ you 


160 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


shall take a note to Mrs. Weeks for your sins, and 
ask her to come up some afternoon, and have a lit- 
tle music, and you shall play the accompaniment.^^ 

“ ]^o,” said Dickie firmly, “ I will not play 
Mrs. Weeks’ accompaniment. She thumps time 
on my shoulder the whole time, and says I play 
too much from my elbow.” 

“ How do you play from your elbow? ” said 
Tim; how is it done? ” 

“ I don’t know; ask Mrs. Weeks. You can’t 
play from your shoulder because she thumps it all 
the time; hut Mrs. Weeks is so musical, she 
wouldn’t be content if you played from your hind 
legs.” 

“Isn’t Dickie a fool?’’ said the duke, giving 
his brother-in-law a friendly push which sent him 
flying across the room. 

“ And him a marrit man, too ! ” said Christina. 

“ You should have known me before I was 
married, Miss M^Hab,” Dick said, “ I think there 
never was such an ass as I was till Anne took me 
in hand! ” His voice grew husky as it always did 
when he spoke of his wife. He left Christina to 
finish the game of billiards, and crossed the room, 
and sat by her side, fingering her bright work, 
and taking her hand in his. 

“ Such is married life,” said the duke, looking 
across the billiard table, and smiling at Christina. 

“ I approve of married life for every one,” 
said Christina, with intention. 

“ Oh! so do I, by Jove! ” said the duke. 


CHAPTER X 

Said Dickie, as he and Christina walked along 
the Much-Benham road the following day, John 
is a rattling good fellow, isnT he?’^ 

I like him now,’^ said Christina, “ but I did 
not care for him at first.’^ 

You have not seen him at his best,^’ said 
Dickie cheerily, such a fellow for songs and 
stories! Then dropping his tone of exaggerated 
cheerfulness, Dick said, You do not think he is 
ill, do you. Miss M^Xab? I wish you would tell 
me the truth from an outsider's point of view.” 

I do not think he is looking any worse,” said 
Christina, but then, of course, I have never seen 
him looking very well.” 

Oh, that is his limp,” said Dickie, relieved, 
a limp gives a man an invalid look ; and then, 
you know, he is often laid up for a winter like 
this. The cold weather does not seem to suit him, 
and yet he dislikes the idea of going abroad.” 

Has he always been lame? ” asked Christina. 
Mr. Churchill and his chronic illness, the reason 
for his stay at Poplar^s Court (for he was no rela- 
tion, either of Dickie or of Anne), was one of the 

161 


162 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


few subjects on which Mr. Drummond was reti- 
cent. 

]^o, not always,” said Dickie, he is not very 
lame now, you know — just drags his leg a bit. The 
mischief is that he can’t ride now — that’s the mis- 
chief of it. And,” he added, “ I suppose there 
never was a better rider than John used to be.” 

Christina was loth to ask questions, and they 
walked on in silence for a time, making leaps 
across puddles, and balancing themselves on ridges 
of turf by the side of the road where it was dryer. 

“ He won the Cup for his regiment three 
times,” began Dickie again suddenly, “ and all 
those things that I’ve got on my mantelpiece are 
his. He didn’t care about having them himself, 
so I took them. Did you ever meet a Miss Yillars 
— Bertha Yillars? ” asked Dick, in his unexpected 
way. 

Ho!” 

Well, then, if ever you do meet her, you will 
know that she is the most heartless girl that ever 
lived.” Dick dug his stick savagely into the 
ground, and drew it out again with a squelching 
noise. “ You see,” clearing his throat and looking 
across the fields away from Christina’s face, at 
one time a preacher — a man who was very high 
up in the English Church — got hold of John. I 
don’t know quite how it came about — I have never 
asked him to tell me of it — but he used to go a 
lot to this man’s church. Well, the long and short 
of it is that he got converted, or something, I don’t 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 163 


know what you call it. But John was such a 
good fellow always, and didn’t need any stuffy old 
parson interfering with him; however, at any rate, 
when I came back from India the thing was done; 
John was quite changed. I’m afraid this may not 
be very interesting to you,” broke off Dick, “ Anne 
and I never talk about it, even to each other.” 

Please go on, if you don’t mind,” said Chris- 
tina. 

Well, you see, John had given up everything. 
I don’t know what the parson chap had done to 
him, but John seemed to think that nearly every- 
thing was wrong, or a temptation of the devil, or 
something. He gave up racing, and even shoot- 
ing and dinners, and went to work in the East 
End. Well, about that time he fell in love with 
a girl, this very Miss Villars, and, of course, he 
took it hardly, for John took everything hardly 
from measles to his conversion. We thought it 
was all right, because the girl was such a religious 
sort of person herself. She went into Society a 
good bit, out to dinner and all that sort of thing, 
and generally talked to a man about his soul at 
dessert. She used to wear black clothes in Lent, 
and was very pretty, and looked like an angel. 
So, of course, it all seemed awfully suitable, and 
John proposed, and she accepted, and they were 
engaged. How comes the beastly part,” said Dick 
savagely. John thought she would help him in 
everything; and, of course,” softening, “he may 
have worked her a bit too hafd. They were al- 


164 ' THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

ways going to High-Church services together, and 
giving up things in Advent and Lent — though 
poor John had not much left to give up — and in 
the end she failed him — jibbed, or something, at 
East End parties and Missions to Outcasts, and 
Testaments read at night shelters. She liked So- 
ciety, although she went into it in such a holy 
sort of way, and so she threw John over. I al- 
ways think he went mad that day he got her letter. 
I was with him — but I am not going to talk about 
it — I did say, ^ Go to church, or something, John; 
or have a drink, and pull yourself together ! ’ And 
he had a drink and said he would like to go down 
to Sandown with me that afternoon. You can’t 
think what it was like. Miss M^I^ab, taking a man 
in that state to Sandown. And then bad luck had 
it that it was a steeplechase day, and Captain John- 
ston, who was to have ridden St. Pancras, could 
not come at the last minute. So some one said to 
John — thinking, of course, that as he was at San- 
down he had got over his very strict views, which 
we all regretted — some one said, ^ I wish you’d 
take his place, Churchill; will you ride St. Pan- 
cras? ’ And John said, ^ Yes, I’ll ride him to the 
devil! ’ He had a fall at the last jump,” said 
Dickie briefly, “ and ricked his back.” 

Christina had tears in her eyes when Dickie 
had flnished, and as she believed that no one 
should ever be seen crying, she turned her head 
away, and said briefly, That’s a sad story! ” 

They walked on in silence till far away in the 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB ' 165 


still distance they heard the sound of horses’ hoof- 
falls on the road. Dr. Brown, I suspect,” said 
Dickie, without looking round. On that quiet 
country road where the foot of a stranger seldom 
trod, the sound of every wheel or hoof could be 
instantly located, and the owner’s name given 
without hesitation. Villagers sitting in their fire- 
lit cottages at night, with the curtains securely 
drawn, would say to each other without turning 
their heads, There goes Miss Smith’s young man ; 
he has stayed a little later than usual to-night.” 
Or, “Farmer Mears must have had a good day 
at the market, or he would have been home before 
now.” 

Dickie was right in his surmise, and presently 
the doctor trotted up, his horse’s flanks covered 
with mud, and his own gaiters splashed with the 
clay of the road. Mr. Drummond, always de- 
lighted to talk to any one, shook hands in his 
hearty way, and said, “ You’ve still got Neptune, 
I see. The best old horse in the countryside.” 

“ Yes,” said the doctor, leaning from his sad- 
dle to take a look at the horse, as though it were 
the first time he had ever seen him. Yes, I 
would not change Neptune for almost any horse 
you could offer me; ” and he patted him on the 
shoulder. “ I just stopped to tell you,” the doc- 
tor continued, that the Weeks’ are all down with 
the scarlet fever, so I wouldn’t let your little girl 
go to the Vicarage for the present. I was just 
riding round your way to warn you.” 


166 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Thanks very much/’ said Dickie cheerfully, 
“I’ll tell my wife.” And he nodded smilingly 
as the doctor rode on through the mud. 

“ V ery civil of old Brown to stop and warn 
us like that,” he said to Christina, “ I must say 
I have a great affection for that old chap. No- 
body could have been kinder than he was when 
Anne was ill. You don’t know, of course, how 
ill she was once, and ” — fiercely — “ I’m not going 
to talk about it.” 

He called the dogs about him, and cuffed one 
of them severely; and this was such an unusual 
proceeding with Mr. Drummond that Christina 
showed her surprise by opening her big grey eyes 
very wide indeed, and staring at the whimpering 
dog and its master. 

“ I hate to think of people being ill,” said Dick, 
savagely. “ Come here, poor old fellow; I didn’t 
mean to hurt you.” 

The dog accepted the apology, and began to 
lick his master’s hand, who stroked and caressed 
him nearly all the way home. 

It was the fashion of the Drummonds — al- 
though one of which they were quite unconscious 
— to call each other by name as soon as they were 
inside the hall doors. And this accounted for the 
fact, which had at first puzzled Christina, that the 
doors of nearly all the rooms of the house were 
always allowed to stand open. So that when Mr. 
Drummond, for instance, had rattled his stick into 
the umbrella stand, aiid tossed his gloves on to 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 167 


the table, and called out, Anne, where are you, 
Anne? his wife might immediately reply, “ Here, 
Dickie, in the drawing-room, or the morning- 
room,’’ or wherever she happened to be. Anne, 
herself, entering more quietly, would pause for a 
minute on the mat, and say in her clear, soft voice. 
Are you in, Dickie ? ” 

Here,” called Anne, this afternoon, when 
Dick had sent her name sounding through the 
house; and she came into the hall to hear what 
he had been doing, and how far he had been. 
For no matter how void of interest life in the 
country may be, there still seems to be in the 
minds of those who remain at home, instead of 
going for the afternoon’s walk, a pleasant feeling 
of anticipation that there will be some news when 
the enterprising voyagers shall return home by 
the lonely roads, or through the empty, silent 
fields. 

The Weeks’ have got the scarlet fever,” 
blurted out Dick, and Brown says Joan oughtn’t 
to go there for the next month, at least.” 

Oh, Dickie,” said Anne, “Joan was at tea 
with the Weeks’ yesterday, and played with them 
all the afternoon ! ” 

“ What business had they to ask Joan to tea? ” 
said Mr. Drummond, with a wrathfulness which 
he assumed to conceal his anxiety, “ why couldn’t 
Joan have tea in her own nursery? Confound the 
Weeks’!” He chattered on without ceasing, in 
the way he had when upset and excited, confound- 


168 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


ing all things in heaven or in earth, and jumping 
at once to the conclusion that Joan would get 
scarlet fever and would probably die. 

His excitement always made his wife more 
gentle and composed than usual, and although her 
face was very white she took her husband by the 
hand with a smile, saying, We must not let our 
fears run away with us. And how,’^ with a smile, 
“ could the Weeks’ know that their children were 
going to develop scarlet fever? ” — 

They are always developing something,” in- 
terpolated Mr. Drummond savagely. 

Don’t say anything to Joan about the illness 
at the Vicarage; she is full of little fancies, and 
might soon imagine herself to be ill, and I shall 
warn nurse and the servants not to go into Hoe- 
ford while the fever is there.” 

Joan came down to tea presently, and her 
father greeted her as though she were but just re- 
stored to him from the grave. It was puzzling 
to the child to find herself held a captive through 
her play-hour upon her father’s knee, while he 
repeatedly felt her hands and brow, and asked her 
if she felt too hot or too cold, with a solicitude 
he was unable to conceal, ^^eedless to say, that 
before the evening was over Joan had discovered 
all she wanted to know about the illness at Hoe- 
ford Vicarage. The situation pleased the young 
lady, who was naturally of a picturesque turn of 
mind, and her imagination at once flew to death- 
bed scenes, and village funerals. Before return- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 169 


ing to her nursery, she begged a little note-hook 
from her father (who would not that evening 
have refused her anything, to the half of his 
kingdom) and she ran upstairs with it, and knocked 
at the door of Christina’s sitting-room. 

Dear Miss M^Nab,” she said gushingly, 
will you let me stay here for a little while? 
It’s the only place I ever feel that I can be 
alone.” 

Christina complied, and went on with some 
work in which she was engaged; and Joan curled 
herself up on the sofa, and began to scribble vig- 
orously. Presently she looked up, and said to 
Christina : “ Which of all my possessions do you 
like best? ” 

Christina considered for some time, and then 
to humour her small guest, remarked that per- 
haps Joan’s doll-house was really the most fasci- 
nating of all her possessions. 

“ I did think of leaving that to I^urse,” said 
Joan, with her head on one side, because Nurse 
has been so particularly obliging about keeping 
that doll’s house dusted and I know she would 
like to go on doing it.” 

What are you doing, you strange child?” 
said Christina. 

“ I am making my will,” remarked J oan 
thoughtfully, “ and, really, it makes one feel very 
generous.” 

“ I am sure your mamma would not like you 
to he doing anything of the sort,” said Christina. 


170 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Come and sit on mj knee, and I will tell yon 
a nice little story! 

Children always made Christina feel a little 
shy, but her serious way of treating them made 
her wonderfully popular with little people. To 
the Scotch girl, who had been brought up with 
Calvinistic strictness, and without even a mother’s 
love to counteract this grim influence, the diminu- 
tives applied to children and to dogs were quite 
beyond her powers to acquire. She drew little 
Joan Drummond on to her knee now, and began 
seriously, There was once a little girl ” — but was 
interrupted by the child, who exclaimed in her 
polite, gushing, English way — 

“ It’s too sweet of you, you darling thing, to 
offer to tell me tales, but I really think I must get 
this finished first, and there is only twenty min- 
utes before I^urse comes to fetch me to bed. You 
see if I get the Weeks’ scarlet fever and die, I 
should like to leave all my friends something, and, 
of course, one would like it to be something suit- 
able, and that is what takes the time thinking 
about. Please do let me go on with it now. Miss 
M^Yab, or else I shall think about it all night, 
and then I sha’n’t sleep, or if I do I shall have 
queer dreams, and father has strictly forbidden 
dreams.” 

She sucked her lead pencil, and bent her little 
fair head with its bobbing tow-coloured curls over 
her task, and Christina went and sat on the sofa 
beside her, put her arm round her waist in an un- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 171 


accustomed caress, and said, I wish you wouldn’t 
be so silly.” 

Men are my great difficulties,” said Joan, 
because I seem to have so few things that men 
would like. Still, one would like to remember 
everybody; so please don’t choose anything hard. 
Miss M‘Nab, because I think men always like hard 
things, and if you choose any of them, my pos- 
sessions would not go round, you understand? You 
could have my little Indian shawl, if you like; 
that’s soft, but anything like books or my battle- 
dores and shuttlecocks, I should like to leave to 
gentlemen.” She spread out her note-book in 
front of her, and wrote in a large text hand: 

To father, my locket. To Nurse, my doll’s 
house.” — “ I should like the Weeks’ to have some- 
thing, too,” she said cheerfully, but, of course, 
I don’t know which of them will get well, and 
which won’t. I wonder if they will cut off all my 
hair? I should like that, I think.” 

^^Joan,” said Christina, please give over, 
there’s a good child.” 

Further remonstrance was not required, for at 
this moment the nurse tapped at the door, and 
Joan had just time to fly across the room, and 
deposit her will in a drawer of Christina’s writing- 
table, when she was summoned to bed. 

Mr. Drummond felt, as he expressed it, hor- 
ribly jumpy ” for the next two days, and he 
walked more often and further than usual, beg- 
ging Christina to go with him, and chatting to her 
13 


172 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


rapidly during the whole of the walks. Anne 
stayed at home a good deal on these two days — 
outwardly calm and sweet, as she ever was, but 
often looking apprehensively at her one little girl. 

On the third day Joan sickened for the fever, 
and was very ill indeed. Her constitution, never 
very strong, gave way rapidly under the disease, 
and her poor little body, tormented with the cruel 
fever, became piteously thin and worn. And then 
there came a terrible time for the little party at 
Poplar’s Court, when day after day passed, and 
little hope was entertained for the child’s recov- 
ery. Anne was not visible at all in those days. 
And John Churchill, although in worse health 
than usual, left his rooms, and seemed to pass the 
greater part of his time limping up and down the 
corridor near the nursery, where Anne Drum- 
mond sat with her child. Dick had assumed an 
overdone cheerfulness, which he called keeping 
up for Anne’s sake,” and his laugh, without a 
trace of mirth in it, could be heard nearly all 
day. 

Poor little Joan, unconscious of anything 
around her, lay in her little bed, and talked at 
random of her childish games, her lessons, and 
her friends, or asked piteously, as the hot fever 
burnt through her, for water — and still again for 
a little water! The dear little bobbing curls had 
been all cut off, and the tiny wasted hands plucked 
uneasily at the sheets. 

A young kitchenmaid who took the fever died 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 173 


in the house; and Anne, who loved her servants as 
they loved her, spared a little time from her own 
anxious watching to go and comfort the servant’s 
parents. The funeral of the young girl moving 
across the park one day in the spring sunshine 
deepened the present sadness of the household, 
and added to their fears. 

The Drummonds had long ago suggested that 
Christina should go away, when first the fever 
broke out, but she found that Dick (always every 
one’s special attention) was lost without some one 
to speak to, and that she could, at least, be of 
service in taking him for his league-long walks, 
which were the poor little man’s only distraction. 
Once, as they sat in the big, dim hall, softly lit 
now by the light of spring’s lengthening days, 
Anne came downstairs and said to Christina, “ She 
is more than usually restless this afternoon, and 
seems to think she has left something in your 
room. Miss M^I7ab, which she cannot find. Are 
there any toys of hers there? Do help us,” she 
said, clasping her hands, “ the doctor thinks that 
if we could satisfy her upon this point, she would 
be calmer.” 

I’ll look everywhere,” said Christina, run- 
ning upstairs, but I do not think she ever left 
anything there.” Then, she suddenly bethought 
herself of the little pocket-book, and of Joan’s 
Will,” and brought it down to Anne in the 
hall. 

Poor Lady Anne! She had not given way 


174 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


before, but the pencilled entries which Joan had 
made, bestowing her childish possessions upon her 
friends, broke down her barrier of self-control, 
and she gave way to a torrent of tears which no 
one could check. Christina withdrew, leaving hus- 
band and wife together, and crept upstairs to the 
nursery. 

“ Here is your will,” she said softly to Joan, 
giving the little pocket-book into the child’s fever- 
ish hands. And some unknown difficulty in the 
child’s wandering mind seemed to be satisfied. 
She slipped her hand into Christina’s, and slept 
peacefully. 

The next day there was a great change for 
the better, and Anne in the fulness of her heart 
seemed to want to kiss Christina’s very feet. The 
sudden quiet and calmness of the little patient, 
her refreshing sleep, and the rapid change for the 
better, dated from Christina’s visit to the nursery; 
and Anne, usually so undemonstrative, had an- 
other long cry upon Christina’s shoulder, which 
upset both women very much, and drew them to- 
gether in quite an inexplicable way. Anxiety was 
not yet quite over, and the chairs on either side 
of Joan’s bed were occupied by the mother and 
the nurse, when Christina looked in in the after- 
noon to see the child. 

“ I think she is asleep,” whispered Anne, 
which, of course, is the best thing for her. The 
difficulty now is to get her to take any nourish- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 1Y5 


ment. The doctor says that if she could be in- 
duced to take something her convalescence would 
be assured/’ 

Please sit down, Christina,” said Joan’s 
feeble voice from the bed, I like to see your 
hair shining; it looks like a lamp.” 

Christina took Anne’s vacant chair by the bed, 
and then Joan’s own nurse came in with a little 
cup of milk in her hand. The poor woman had 
sat up for many days and nights with her charge, 
refusing even to leave her post when the pro- 
fessional nurse was on duty. Her affection for 
the little, sallow, fair-haired girl was touching in 
its intensity; but she had a foolish way of talk- 
ing, which irritated Joan in her present feeble 
state. 

“ How, ducksie,” said the nurse, do try a 
teeny, weeny droppie! ” 

And the sick nurse from the other side added 
her coaxings, saying, “ Hursie will be so pleased 
if the wee girlie will just try and swallow a 
little.” 

Joan rolled her head round on the pillow, and 
fixed her eyes on Christina’s golden hair, which 
she said looked like a lamp. “ I want something 
to eat,” she said briefly. 

Here, my petsie,” said her nurse, “ here is 
your beautiful milk, which Hannie has brought 
to you; or would you like a little barley-water 
better? ” 

Blooming fool!” said Joan weakly, “I do 


176 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


not call milk or barley-water something to eat. 
I call ^ something to eat ’ beef or mutton.’’ 

And then, as Dickie said, a child who’ called 
her nurse a blooming fool” could not die yet; 
she was not fit to die. 


CHAPTEK XI 


Dickie^s next trouble was that Christina was 
not getting enough for her money! A bona- 
fide cheque had come from Christina’s bona-fide 
lawyers in payment of her first quarter as paying 
guest”; and the cheque weighed like lead upon 
Richard Drummond’s soul. 

There was that jolly time we had after 
Christmas,” he said to his wife, and, of course, 
the Weeks’ are pleasant neighbours, and the Lum- 
leys and some other people have asked her to 
dinner ; but hang me if I know what she is actually 
paying for in this house! John is sick — at least 
he is not quite so well as usual, poor old chap; 
and then there was Joan’s illness, when Miss 
M^Xab behaved like a brick — I always said she 
was a brick — but it will be fearfully dull for her 
the next little while.” Even Mrs. Weeks ad- 
mitted that it was dull in the country in Lent. 
“ And if you and Joan go to Bournemouth for 
change of air, I do not quite see what is going to 
happen! ” 

Miss MTSTab, however, was a young woman 
who, as she herself expressed it, ^^gae’d her ain 

177 


1T8 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

gait,” and was never difficult to dispose of, so her 
host might have spared himself his anxiety con- 
cerning her movements. For two whole after- 
noons he walked beside Miss M^FTab along the 
roads, where hedges now began to bud, feeling 
wretched, and trying in vain to relieve his mind 
by an explanation and a proposition which he in- 
tended making to the paying guest. F ortunately, 
it was quite immaterial to Christina whether she 
talked or remained silent. Silence was never 
fraught with a feeling of weakness in Christina’s 
case, but her host’s preoccupation was unusual, 
and she wondered what was coming; — that what- 
ever was in Mr. Drummond’s mind would most 
assuredly come to the surface before long was a 
thing that no one who knew liim ever doubted for 
an instant. 

What I say is,” began Dick, using his favour- 
ite formula, and referring evidently to some for- 
mer conversation which no one could remember 
ever having taken place, “ what I say is, if satis- 
faction is not given, half the money should be 
returned. Why, even a beast of a tradesman says 
that; and I never could see myself why if you are 
a trader you shouldn’t trade in a gentlemanlike 
way! That’s logic, I think.” 

He rambled on upon this and various subjects, 
before it ever occurred to Christina that there 
was any personal application of his remarks, until 
he suddenly exclaimed, “ You Avon’t mind if I send 
back the cheque to your lawyers, will you? It 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 179 


is not good business — well, not to put too fine a 
point on it — you know the place ain’t worth the 
money.” 

“ Mr. Drummond,” said Christina, startled out 
of her usual calm, and laying her hand on Dickie’s 
arm, you have not, I trust, said a word of this 
to Mr. M^Crae? ” 

“ 'Noj no; why should I? ” responded Dick. I 
have not said a word to the lawyers yet.” 

Then, please forbear,” said Christina. 

I am very sorry,” said Dickie apologetically; 

I only meant to say it was so beastly dull for 
you here, now that John is ill and we cannot ask 

people to stay, or anything. What I thought ” 

You’ll oblige me,” said Christina, by re- 
fraining from any such remarks.” 

“ I don’t quite see why.” 

“ I won’t deceive you,” said Christina, blush- 
ing; the advantages I get here are more than 
I can pay for, and I have got such a lot of money 
that I do not know what to do with it. But be- 
sides that ” (Christina’s truthfulness was of the 
unsparing order of things) this friend of mine, 
Mr. M^Crae, is a very proud and conceited young 
man, and wants to be above me in all things. 
Yow, I have been representing to him the aristo- 
cratic circles in which I move, and the grand times 
we have been having, and if there is illness or 
anything in the house I just don’t write for. a week 
or two. A more bumptious young man than Mr. 
M^Crae does not exist; and you’ll oblige me by 


180 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


not mentioning that you consider anything dull 
down here/’ 

Mr. Drummond murmured that the affair 
might be managed quietly, through Christina’s 
lawyers. But she, having first remarked that 
there were very few people you could trust, 
seemed so distressed at the thought of what she 
called any carried tales ” reaching Mr. M^Crae’s 
ear that the subject was closed. 

“ You need not bother about me,” said Chris- 
tina, when Lady Anne goes away for a change, 
because I have had a very polite invitation from 
the Duchess of Southwark asking me to go and 
stay with her at Timworth Castle. And later,” 
added Christina darkly, I may be obliged to take 
a house in London for the season. It depends how 
things go at Timworth.” 

But Dickie was not listening. Timworth 
Castle,” he said; ^Svhy, that is worse than us! 
They shut up half the house, and the duchess is 
so mean that she counts the candles and looks 
after the blacking-pots. You will like the Philos- 
opher; you know, of course, that Trottie — we al- 
ways call her Trottie — married again. But I 
really cannot see what you will do with yourself 
at Timworth.” For the country gentleman, no 
matter how dull his own domicile may be, always 
compares it favourably with those of his neigh- 
bours. 

Christina went alone to Timworth Castle, be- 
cause Jessie had gone to stay with her sister in 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 181 


Scotland, and as she could hardly be called, even 
in a favourable advertisement, a “ useful maid,’’ 
her mistress did not think she would miss her serv- 
ices much. It was sufficiently important to the 
bourgeois-born girl to be met at Timworth station 
by a big footman with a cockade in his hat, who 
asked her if she had any luggage, while a very 
sumptuous-looking carriage waited for her in the 
road. 

Here was another instance of aristocratic pov- 
erty, and Christina marvelled! Almost every one 
whom she had met in England had declared that 
they were very hard up, but this did not prevent 
their having stables full of horses and keeping up 
costly establishments. Purses were empty, but 
bills were paid somehow, and though one never 
seemed to see a fat roll of notes, such as an 
Inmboro’ merchant would produce from his pock- 
et-book with as little concern as another man 
would produce his pocket-handkerchief, yet dress- 
makers’ bills were enormous, unnecessary servants 
abounded, and every one ordered, as a matter of 
course, the fashionable fad, were it electric lights 
or chiffon ruffles. “ Poor! ” ejaculated Christina, 
settling herself under the fur rug of the luxurious 
carriage, and placing a morocco-covered cushion 
with a ducal coronet upon it at her back; “there 
is many might wish they had half their com- 
plaint.” She nerved herself for the moment of 
arrival at the doors of the big grey castle, which 
she could see between the trees as the carriage 


182 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

turned in at the lodge gates, and longed for the 
assurance of Lilah Anstruther or Judith Camp- 
bell, who could enter a hall full of people as in- 
differently as they would enter a ready-money shop. 

The trees had burst into April buds all along 
the drive; and pale primroses were showing be- 
neath hedges, powdered with green. The length- 
ening day was full of delightful peace, and the 
old castle looked dignified, secure, magnificent, 
against its background of misty, budding elms. 

It would take every penny of eighteen thousand 
a year to keep it up properly,’^ said Christina to 
herself, with a thrill of rapture, as she thought 
how few rivals there could be to such a large for- 
tune as her own. Why, only a few pale lights 
were lit in one wing of the grand old pile! With 
eighteen thousand a year (and Christina) there 
might be a blaze of light in every window! 

A fatherly butler relieved Christina of her 
bag, and said he thought Her Grace was in the 
garden. And the next moment Christina saw a 
little figure in a very short dress running with 
great activity across the wet lawn, followed by a 
number of bounding dogs. As they approached 
near to the house, the fatherly butler said, “ There 
is Her Grace.” And immediately after, the Duch- 
ess of Southwark took a fiying leap over the fiow- 
er-bed, and landed at Christina’s side. She ex- 
tended her hand, in a very old and dirty garden- 
ing-glove, to her guest, and smiled at her with a 
side-long glance, and a curious twist of the neck 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 183 


which gave the impression that Her Grace’s smile 
was somehow connected with the muscles of the 
thorax. 

“Do come in, won’t you?” she said, “thank 
you, thank you,” to her servants, “ thank you very 
much! ” 

This gracious lady bestowed thanks wherever 
she went, and when doors were opened or shut for 
her; so her progress about the house, or when en- 
tering a carriage, was generally a chorus of thanks. 

“ This way; the hall is very dark, but we can 
find our way into the morning-room, and get tea. 
Put the table here, please, Thomas; thank you, 
and the cake — so many thanks.” 

She threw off her jacket with surprising ener- 
gy, and made a sudden onslaught upon the dogs 
who had followed into the room. She addressed 
them as her “ sweetest ” and “ tweetest,” and ca- 
ressed their heads with murmurs of affection. 
Then, in a flash, this active lady seated herself on 
the sofa by Christina’s side, and without address- 
ing her, bent down to the collie who was sitting 
heavily on her dress, and said, “ Say, how-do-you- 
do, Miss M^Hab; say how-do-you-do. Miss M^Hab; 
say it, my Tweetums ! ” 

Christina found herself almost expecting an 
audible greeting from the animal, and stooped 
down, and gravely extended a small gloved hand. 

The duchess kissed the collie’s nose, and said, 
“ He says he hopes you had a comfy journey, and 
are not very tired.” 


184 : THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


]^o, thank you! ” said Christina, dividing her 
answer between the dog and its mistress, and I 
had a pleasant journey, though without incident 
of any sort.” 

“ Mimsey will be here directly,” said the duch- 
ess, I cannot think where he has gone this after- 
noon.” 

“ Is he a collie too? ” asked Christina. 

]^o,” said the duchess, I only wish he were. 
1^0, Mimsey is my husband. I daresay Tim told 
you that I married again — a professor — quite 
nice, but stupid. Have a little more tea; I am 
afraid there is no more bread-and-butter.” 

Christina accepted the offer of a renewal of 
her cup, and obtained from her hostess a modicum 
of tea, and a good deal of tepid water. Feeling 
hungry after her journey, she summoned courage 
to ask for a piece of cake, and the duchess slapped 
her playfully on the knee, and said, You naughty 
child! that is my doggie’s cake. However, you 
shall have a little bit, if my Tweetums will allow 
it. Is the naughty lady to have some of its ov/n 
cake?” she asked her canine friend, whose reply 
must have been favourable, for a tiny piece of 
cake was handed to Christina with the remark 
that that was every bit she was to have. Subse- 
quently, she asked if Miss M^Hab would like to 
see her bedroom. Christina discovered after pay- 
ing other visits, that a guest’s chief attraction in 
the eyes of the hostess consists in keeping as much 
out of the way as possible. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M^NAB 185 


A charming housemaid, with an affectionately 
respectful manner, unpacked Christina^s boxes, 
laid out her dinner-dress, asked if she might re- 
move the lady’s boots, and left the room with the 
information that dinner was at eight o’clock. 
“ And it is only five o’clock now,” said Christina, 
feeling hungry. She found some writing-paper 
with the ducal coronet upon it, and wrote to Colin, 
and then dressed and went downstairs. 

The hall through which she passed was still 
dimly lighted, and the drawing-room looked vast 
and empty. A few comfortable chairs were drawn 
up to a large fire, and each of these was occupied 
by a dog. A mastiff lay on the hearthrug, and 
Christina found that he growlingly resented a 
stranger’s claim even to a corner of it, so she re- 
mained in the cold outer circle, beyond the 
warmth of the fire. There were some large pic- 
tures in heavy frames hanging on the walls, and 
a great many sofas and chairs in chintz covers were 
scattered about the room. A small table with a 
photograph of the Queen, signed Victoria,” stood 
near the fire; and some larger pieces of furniture 
— cabinets, and the like — were arranged without 
much taste round the walls of the room. A large 
mirror at the further end of the room, displayed 
Christina to herself in all the bravery of a new 
evening toilet, and she contemplated it with grave 
satisfaction. ISTone of the girls whom she had 
seen had her beauty, and none of them were pos- 
sessed of even half so large a fortune. I stand 


186 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


a good chance/’ said Christina to herself, but she 
wished some one would tell her whether or not 
the duke was expected to come and stay in the 
house. 

The professor came in presently and saluted 
her in a very kindly and courteous manner. He 
was a big man with a fine head, such as in novels 
is called “ leonine,” covered with very thick grey 
hair in curls. He had a fine large frame, and a 
vigorous healthy look. Mr. Prendergast was a 

Professor of Philosophy in University; a 

man of great learning, and much beloved by his 
disciples, whose text-book was his famous work 
upon the Necessity of Death. He had married the 
Duchess of Southwark in the fifth year of her 
widowhood, and the incongruous match, so utterly 
irreconcilable in the opinion of his friends, had 
been a perfectly happy one. He and the duchess 
rented Timworth Castle from the young duke (all 
of whose property was let). The place was much 
too large for them, but it was within convenient 
distance of the University town, and the duchess 
believed that her principles of economy were the 
one thing which rendered it possible for them to 
live upon the family estate. Maximilian Prender- 
gast or the Philosopher ” as he was called by his 
students, who believed that only he had the key 
of life, inspired a great deal of affection and was 
very little aware of the fact. 

^^We are very pleased to see you here,” he 
said, “ and though I fear the house has not many 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 187 


attractions for young people, the duchess and I 
will try to make your visit a pleasant one.” 

Christina thanked him; and then they heard 
the duchess flying across the hall, and all the dogs 
rose and barked loudly, while she kissed each in 
turn, and said how glad they were to see their 
own missus. The professor offered his arm to 
Christina in a ceremonious manner when dinner 
was announced, and this alarmed her very much, 
and she wished she might say, “ Please take Her 
Grace in, and let me follow behind.” Her Grace, 
however, was busy blowing out all the candles in 
the drawing-room, and followed them with danc- 
ing steps into the dining-room. This room was 
a very large and noble one, and was hung with 
tapestry, and boasted an Adam ceiling. 

The fatherly butler and three very tall foot- 
men in grey liveries and yellow collars waited at 
table. It had always seemed to Christina’s bour- 
geois mind the height of impertinence, not to say 
greediness, to look at a menu before beginning 
dinner. “To take what was provided ” was an 
axiom of her childhood, but to require to be told 
what was coming surely showed an undue regard 
for the pleasures of the table. To-night, however, 
her hunger, and its attendant anxieties as to the 
viands, overcame her good manners, and she 
glanced in a surreptitious manner at the porcelain 
tablet in front of her. The results of her perusal 
were reassuring, and if the dogs were not given 
the whole of the dinner Christina’s healthy appe- 
13 


188 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


tite would be abundantly satisfied. A spoonful of 
clear soup served in silver plates was not substan- 
tial, nor did a single smelt do more than wbet the 
appetite. A morsel of mince-meat on a piece of 
toast followed next, and was called a crouton. An 
almost impalpable helping of game was next 
handed to Christina; and one stuffed olive con- 
cluded the repast, which the young lady pro- 
nounced in her own mind to be “ scrimpit.” 

After dinner, the duchess played Patience, and 
chatted with her dogs, and that was all that Chris- 
tina could ever remember afterwards of the even- 
ing. Her hunger, after luncheon of a few sand- 
wiches in the train, was so sharp, that she could 
give nothing else, save her own feeling of dis- 
comfort, any attention at all. And Mr. Prender- 
gast’s simplest remarks might have been full of 
wisdom, courtesy, or kindness — Christina never 
could remember afterwards what they were. The 
duchess remarked upon saying Good-night ” that 
she looked a little pale, and Christina had almost 
said, “Ho wonder!” but recollected herself in 
time, and merely remarked without much brill- 
iancy, “ Do I? ” Some glasses of cold water were 
placed upon a tray in the hall, for the delectation 
of those who enjoyed this form of refreshment 
before going to bed, and Christina drank a glass 
of it, gravely remarking to herself with a certain 
dry humour which never forsook her, “ I hope 
there are a few substantial microbes in this! ” 

Prayers preceded breakfast the next morning, 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 189 


and were held in a very beautiful library with an 
organ in it. The active duchess sprang upon the 
music bench, and played a Voluntary, with her 
feet scampering up and down the pedals all the 
time. Then the servants trooped in, and the pro- 
fessor — grave, handsome, magnificent — took his 
place by a reading-desk with a Bible upon it. 

Mimsey,” called out the duchess suddenly, 
swinging herself round on the polished seat of the 
organ, “ you are going to read the fifth chapter 
of Ephesians? 

“ I am, my love,’’ said the professor. 

“ Then, don’t ! ” The duchess beckoned to 
Christina, who sat near her, and bending forward 
said in a quick, audible whisper : “ It’s the chapter 
about wives being in subjection to their husbands; 
some women always pretend they want a master — 
an efiete piece of Orientalism like that! But I 
always know by instinct when Mimsey is going to 
read that chapter, and then I stop him.” 

She smiled with a twist of her neck; and the 
professor meanwhile, having sought out another 
chapter, began to read it in his sonorous, big, 
delightful voice. 

Breakfast was so poor a meal that Christina 
believed that she arose from it more hungry than 
she sat down. Delicate wafers called “ breakfast 
biscuits,” and scraps of buttered toast might be 
dainty fare, but on an invigorating spring morning 
could hardly be called substantial. If I were a 
weak-minded woman, I should cry,” said Chris- 


190 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M^NAB 

tina; but instead of that, she laced on her boots, 
and announced her intention of walking to the 
village : If there’s food to be had witliin three 
miles of me,” she said to herself with determina- 
tion, then food I shall have.” 

The village, however, proved to be almost at 
the park gates, and contained a little baker’s shop, 
into the window of which a rosy-cheeked baker’s 
wife was at that very moment placing a big tin 
tray filled with hot, shining brown buns! Chris- 
tina’s heart leaped. ISTo loafer looking at a cook- 
shop’s window, and coveting the sausages that 
frizzle there, ever felt more anxious for food. 

I’ll buy six buns,” she said to herself, “ and eat 
them as I go along the road.” And at that very 
moment the professor came round the corner of 
the baker’s shop, and said, “ Ah, you’re early astir, 
I see! Are you taking a walk?” Christina as- 
sented, and politeness made her hope that the 
professor had not guessed her intentions respect- 
ing the buns. 

I am delighted to see that you can take air 
so early,” he said cordially. 

And inwardly Christina groaned, “ There 
seems little else but air that I can take.” 

May I accompany you, if you are going a 
little further? ” said her host. 

Christina’s heart sank again, as she went for- 
wards on her journey: My very knees are weak,” 
she cried to herself, at the end of a mile or so of 
brisk walking, “ as we go back, I must really pur- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 191 


chase a bun, whether he thinks it eccentric con- 
duct or not, or I shall certainly faint by the way.’^ 

The country lane wound round by various 
twists and turns, and landed them at the hall door 
of Timworth Castle at twelve o’clock. 

Do you mind telling me what time is 
lunch ? ” asked Christina faintly, as she sat down 
on one of the big stone benches outside the door, 
in the pleasant April sunshine. 

It is at one o’clock,” said the professor, do 
you mind having it so early? ” 

Ho,” said Christina, not at all. In fact, 
it cannot be too early for me.” 

The duchess came flying out of the house with 
a merry step: “Will you jump?” she said to 
Christina; and handed her a skipping-rope; then 
unwound her own, and began jumping briskly as 
children do — turning the rope in a circle over her 
head, and jumping deftly over it with a pattering 
sound of her small feet. Christina obediently 
stood up and did likewise; and both ladies jumped 
for some minutes, the professor, meanwhile, re- 
turning to his library, and his books. 

“ There ! ” said the duchess, flinging away her 
rope at last, “ now, 1 am going for a run with 
my dogs.” 

But at this moment a carriage was seen turning 
in at the distant lodge-gates, and driving up the 
avenue. 

“ My dear, who can these be at this unearthly 
hour?” said the duchess. “Heaven send that 


192 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


they do not stay to lunch ! ’’ Then, as the carriage 
drew nearer, Good gracious! I do believe they 
are the Eumfords, and that I asked them to lunch. 
It’s all right. We’ll manage, somehow; but don’t 
take any of the chicken-pate.” 

She then went forward, and received her guests 
graciously, expressing pleasure in their arrival, and 
inviting them to go for a run with the dogs before 
luncheon. Lady Eumford had brought her 
daughters with her, and Christina found that she 
was, by tacit consent, expected to walk with these 
young ladies round the gardens, and show them 
such interesting objects as sprouting vegetables 
and hot greenhouses. When the luncheon-gong 
sounded she bent faint steps towards the house, 
and the Miss Eumfords thought her sadly inatten- 
tive to the duties of conversation. 

The chicken-pate was passed round, with the 
assistance of the four men-servants, and Christina 
heroically said, Ho, thank you”; when it was 
offered to her. Subsequently, the duchess, who 
had her eye upon the side-board, remarked to her 
butter, If there is a little bit left, hand it to Miss 
M^Hab! ” And Christina, pride being absolutely 
swallowed up and overcome . by hunger, meekly 
and thankfully took what remained in the large, 
solid silver dish. Four lamb cutlets and five little 
quenelles were then placed in magnificent silver 
receptacles in front of Her Grace, who, on eco- 
nomical principles, always helped the luncheon 
dishes herself. Lady Eumford accepted a cutlet, 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 193 


and the two Miss Rumfords each had a quenelle. 
Miss M^Nab accepted a portion of the former dish, 
and Mr. Prendergast was then asked what he would 
take. 

“ Thank you,’’ he said, looking first round the 
right-hand side of a bowl of flowers in the middle 
of the table, at the quenelles, and then bending 
his head, and sending another glance round the 
left-hand side at the two remaining cutlets, thank 
you, my love, I think I will have a quenelle.” 

You will take a cutlet,” said the duchess, 
without a moment’s hesitation. 

To which he replied: Thank you, well, I think 
I should like a cutlet.” 

Christina did not discover until she had been at 
Timworth Castle for some days that Mr. Prender- 
gast’s choice of viands was always subject to his 
wife’s approval or disapproval, and the same for- 
mula was repeated every day at lunch. 

When the sweets were placed upon the table, 
Mr. Prendergast had hardly said, A little rice- 
pudding, please,” before his spouse was upon him 
with a bounce, as it were, and with startling ra- 
pidity remarked, You will take apple-tart, Mim- 
sey! ” And Mimsey, undisturbed, said, Thank 
you, my dear, I think I should like a little 
apple-tart.” 

The tart in question was the smallest that 
Christina had ever seen. It reminded her of the 
little pies that she used to make for her dolls 
when she was a little girl. She ate a piece of 


194 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

bread that was placed beside her plate, and asked 
for another bit, and ate that too. 

After luncheon, there was a long drive in an 
open carriage, and to restore circulation, when they 
returned to the castle, the duchess proposed a race 
down the avenue with the dogs. A frugal dinner 
being ended, the party again separated for the 
night, and a very wan and white Christina, looking 
at her image in the mirror at night, said to herself. 
If there is no word of the duke coming to- 
morrow, I leave this house, as sure as my name is 
Christina M^lSTab.’^ 


CHAPTEE XII 


When is Tim coming? ” said the Philosopher, 
the next day at breakfast, as he tapped a small 
egg. Even the eggs at Timworth were unusually 
small. 

I think he comes to-morrow, with the rest 
of the people who are coming,” said the duchess. 

And Christina ate a piece of the brittle toast, 
and thought she would try to hold out a little 
longer. If only the menus at Timworth Castle 
were not so exasperating! They were written in 
French, and were lengthy and full of appetising 
suggestions of things to come. They were varied, 
whereas the food hardly ever varied. Christina 
sometimes wondered where the original cold meat 
came from which furnished so many rechauffes! 
It is true that upon one night in the week the 
fine mince would be called a quenelle,” while, 
on another night it would take the title of a 
ragout,” or a crouton,” a rissole,” or a 
salmi,” — the title was distinctive, but the flavour 
was the same. If they would only call it mince,” 
sighed Christina, one would not get so many 
disappointments.” The duchess, herself, seemed 

195 


196 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


able to make a hearty meal off a green pea and a 
water biscuit, and hardly had the taste for any- 
thing so solid as mince. 

I think, she remarked one day, turning over 
a few of the little particles with her fork, — I 
think this mutton is a little tough. 

This mutton was always a little tough,’’ said 
the Philosopher, referring to it as to an old friend. 

You dear old stupid, you care for nothing 
but food! ” said his lady. 

She invited Christina to come up to her room, 
and offered her a pair of dumb-bells; then showed 
her her Indian clubs, her chest-expanders, and 
various contrivances invented by Mr. Sandow 
for the muscular development of the human race. 
Christina obediently tried them all in turn, and 
as it was a wet day the duchess announced that 
she was going to spend her afternoon sliding in 
the ballroom. It was evidently expected that her 
guest should do the same, and they each took 
one side of the vast room — the duchess flying 
from end to end of it with bounding steps, and 
long successful slides, while Christina gravely took 
short rushes on the newly polished boards, and 
slid carefully with her left foot foremost. 

‘‘What next?” thought Christina; “surely 
even English people must set some limit to their 
foolishness! ” 

Either the long wet day, or the unusual exer- 
cise of sliding up and down a ballroom, made 
Christina M‘I^ab more than commonly hungry 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 197 


when she went to bed that night. I feel quite 
sick,” she said to herself, and I think I am 
beginning to lose my looks.” She did not im- 
mediately begin to undress, but sat wondering if 
there was any possible way by which she could 
obtain refreshment before she slept that night. 
Might a friendly housemaid be asked for some 
bread-and-butter? or might not this unusual pro- 
ceeding come to the ears of Her Grace, and find 
disfavour in her sight? Want, however, con- 
quered her timidity, and she gently and furtively 
rang the bell; but the summons was not answered, 
and Christina had not the courage to ring again. 
Suddenly it struck her that a large silver biscuit- 
box — presumably ' containing biscuits — always 
stood on the dining-room side-boai®. She had 
never seen it removed from its place, and goaded 
by her voracity she determined to steal downstairs 
and get a few of the coveted biscuits from the 
silver box. It was now after eleven o’clock, and 
she wondered whether the great dim hall would 
be quite dark; but on opening her door found 
that the passage outside was flooded with moon- 
light, and that, therefore, she would be able to 
see her way by the beams which streamed from 
the uncurtained windows downstairs. Her door 
creaked horribly as she opened it and crept forth 
in her long lace peignoir held softly about her. 
In all the novels that she had read, the young lady 
who leaves her room at midnight to seek a for- 
gotten novel in the library meets with some strange 


198 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA IVRNAB 

adventure, and the interest of the reader increases 
thereupon with leaps and bounds, while one asks 
half fearfully what is coming next ! But the great 
house in which she found herself sheltered no 
hero of romance, and surely the object of her 
midnight journey was sufficient to proclaim its 
respectability. Cautiously she moved downstairs 
— her bare feet hardly sounding on the carpet’s 
velvet pile, and without candle or taper in her 
hand she flitted like a white moonbeam from pillar 
to pillar of the dark hall. Great patches of the 
moon’s soft light lay on the oak floor, and outside 
she could see the trees, and lawns, and parks, 
looking like some mystical scene in a fairy story, 
in which peiffiaps some one has turned the world 
into silver. Suddenly she paused, gathered the 
white laces of her wrapper about her, and listened 
— did more than listen — threw back her shining 
golden head, and sniffed. Christina’s steps were 
arrested not by a sound but by a smell — a distinct 
succulent odour of cooked viands that whetted 
her keen appetite afresh, and made her mouth 
water. Again she threw back her head, and 
sniffed long and keenly, and her nose proclaimed 
that mutton cutlets at least, not to mention tomato 
sauce, were in her immediate vicinity. Doubtless 
the servants were having a late supper. Could 
she possibly suggest that she should share it with 
them? Could she utter a scream which would 
summon them to her assistance, and then, on the 
plea that she had walked in her sleep, suggest 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 199 


that cutlets would do much to restore her nerves? 
Would it be allowable, in the house of a friend, 
simply to call the cook or butler, and put the case 
plainly before him or her that she was literally 
starving? She softly pushed open the green baize 
door that led to the kitchen wing, and sniffed 
again. The odour seemed less strong here than 
it did at the door of the library. She shut it 
again in fear, wondering if by any chance she 
should be discovered at this time of night wan- 
dering throughout the house, what would her 
hostess think of her? She wafted back to the hall 
again, and slipped from pillar to pillar in the 
patches of moonlight that lay on the floor. How 
still and ghostly it was to wander about a strange 
house at twelve o’clock at night! The odour was 
now distractingly impregnated with roast lamb — 
early lamb, brown and crisp on the outside, and 
most temptingly tender within! Oh, for one good 
square hearty meal! A door banged, and like a flash 
of light Christina darted to the shelter of a tall 
screen and hid behind it. She thought she heard 
steps, and when, as she listened, these died away, 
there was no more courage left in her. If biscuits 
could be secured she would give up all hope of pene- 
trating further into the region of delightful smell, 
and content herself with her one simple robbery. 
She slipped into the dining-room, and snatched 
the three remaining biscuits that she found in the 
silver biscuit-box, and flying softly across the hall, 
sped upwards to her room. At the top of the 


200 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


staircase she came face to face with the duchess! 
The two women stopped and stared at each other 
in the moonlight, utterly incapable — though from 
entirely different motives — of uttering a sound. 

Are you,’’ said the duchess at last, in a hollow 
voice, while her meagre little frame shook, and 
her eyes grew huge and round under the wrinkled 
brows and faded hair — are you from the nether 
world, and why do you haunt this house? ” 

Christina, perceiving that she was mistaken 
for a ghost, felt slightly affronted by the idea — 
as many of us would. To be relegated to the 
nether world, or any other world except the one 
we know, before our time, is irritating even to 
the bluntest susceptibilities. 

N’o,” said Christina, it’s — it’s just me! I 
have been downstairs, because ” — there was noth- 
ing for it but to tell the truth — I thought I could 
fancy a dry biscuit.” 

The duchess wiped damp beads from her brow, 
and her old active, spirited manner at once re- 
turned. Good gracious, what were you doing 
that for, eh, eh? ” 

Christina hesitated; the situation was fraught 
with difficulties on all sides. How should she 
escape from the pitfalls that sarrounded her? A 
dry biscuit is — is such company at night,” she 
faltered. 

Don’t get fat, my dear child,” said the 
duchess; you will lose all your beauty. Dear 
me! what a fright you have given me! How- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 201 


ever, it is as good as a five-mile walk; for it takes 
such a lot out of one. I thought I heard a door 
bang, and came to see what was the matter. Mim- 
sey is such a coward, that I always have to do 
watchman. Good-night. I am glad you ain’t a 
ghost.” 

The little night-gowned figure went flying 
down the passage, and Her Grace disappeared into 
her room as though shot from a bow. Christina 
returned more slowly to her own apartment, ate 
her three dry biscuits, and drank some water out 
of the tooth glass. Even the water is filtered, 
and has the substance taken out of it ! ” she 
thought. 

When the duke arrived at Timworth the next 
afternoon there was no further spirit left in Chris- 
tina, and she was incapable of even the dryest and 
most businesslike flirtation. They met in the long 
avenue, where the duchess had outstripped her 
guest in a mad race with the dogs, and Tim jumped 
down from the dog-cart in which he was driving 
from the station, and greeted her with his usual 
delightful, happy Ha ah ya? ” and Christina said 
simply, and without premeditation, “ O Tim, I am 
so hungry! ” 

Hungry! you poor child; you don’t mean to 
say I never told you? What a beast I am! Did 
not the Philosopher say anything? • Of course 
some one ought to have explained, and you have 
been simply starving! ” 

They strolled up to the house together, and 


202 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


the duke, unable to forgive himself, went on : 

You know it is my mother’s pet weakness to 
try and retrieve the family fortunes by subjecting 
us all to a slow form of starvation. I think she 
calls it ^ keeping the weekly bills down.’ But we 
all understand her, you know, and there is always 
supper in the library after ten o’clock, when she 
goes to bed. How cruel of my stepfather not 
to invite you ! but no doubt he thought your maid 
took things to your room. Have you been living 
on mince^meat? ” 

Yes,” said Christina, and there was whiles 
when I could have eaten more of it.” 

“ Poor child! You see we all give in to this 
harmless weakness of my mother’s — except when 
there is a large party staying in the house, and then 
the Philosopher pretends that that is his special 
affair, and that he pays for it out of some mys- 
terious fund, the source of which has never trans- 
pired. What can I get you now? Shall we go 
to the housekeeper’s room and have a big tea? 
She was my nurse when I was a little chap, and 
has always supplied supplementary meals.” 

There were such delicious-looking buns in the 
village bakery,” said Christina; ''I have thought 
about them since the first morning I saw them, 
but I have never had an opportunity of buying 
one. Your mamma is very active, and you never 
quite know when she will be round the corner.” 

Tim laughed; and they walked across the park 
where the trees were budding and the rooks cawing. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 203 


and primroses looked up from the wet brown earth, 
with something of the happy confidence of chil- 
dren who know not why they are beloved. They 
went out at a side-gate together to the village, 
and had tea in the baker^s little back-parlour. 
Some rosy children peeped shyly at them through 
the open door. There were pots of flowering ge- 
raniums upon the window-ledge, and snowy cur- 
tains, and polished chairs, upon which the firelight 
winked delightfully. His Grace, who had made 
a capital luncheon at two o’clock that very day, 
ate three buns, remarking that this was rip- 
ping! ” And in his daily letter to the girl to 
whom he was not engaged,” he remarked that 
Christina M^Hab was the best comrade he had 
ever known. 

I suppose you know all the crowd who are 
coming to-morrow? ” he said, as they wended their 
way home again with that inward sense of satis- 
faction which a bun produces — no one ever could 
remember that Christina knew no one — you 
know Hardcastle; he was at the Drummonds’, I 
think. And the Tollemaches; those pale girls who 
never say anything. And the Bathursts; did 
Christina know them? The Whites, too — frantic 
people, but the duchess loved them. Major White 
was a little mild man with a squeaky voice, who 
drank tepid water with a dash of glycerine in it, 
and invented torpedoes for the destruction of na- 
tions! You will like Granston, I think,” said 
Tim ; he is a great pal of mine — an excellent 
14 


204 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

boating chap, and has rowed three winning races 
of the ^Varsity Boat Kace.’’ 

He ran over a list of names unknown to Chris- 
tina, with the usual explanatory label attached to 
each; and Christina said: 

You know, in Society a catalogue of the ex- 
hibits would be quite superfluous,’’ which made 
the duke laugh; and he said: 

I suppose we all act as showman to each 
other, don’t we? Why is it, I wonder? I sup- 
pose it is the fashion to be unreserved and gos- 
siping, and by and by we shall see in newspapers 
and journals not only that we were walking in 
the Park, or shopping in Bond Street, but what 
we think about in the middle of the night.” 

Gossip is very delightful, I think,” said 
Christina. When I know people, I like to know 
everything about them, not only the little corner 
of themselves that they reveal to you in general 
conversation.” 

Homo sum: nihil humani,^^ began the duke: 

I once had to write out that quotation a hundred 
times, and it is the only bit of Latin I ever re- 
member.” 

A legislator like yourself,” said Christina, 
relapsing into her judicial manner, should be 
better educated.” 

It tickled His Grace’s fancy to hear himself 
addressed as a legislator, and he remarked that 
he did not think the affairs of England would be 
immeasurably improved by his attentions. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 205 


Tell me something more about our friends,” 
said Christina presently. Have you been meet- 
ing any one who stayed at Poplar^s Court? ” 

Barny^s girl still seems to be obdurate,” he 
remarked genially. I met her in town the other 
day; she is as handsome as paint.” 

What way does she not have him? ” asked 
Christina. 

^‘Goodness knows!” said Tim. He had a 
happy habit — this red-haired boy — of smiling as 
he talked, which gave everything he said a certain 
charming geniality which atoned for the lack of 
brilliance in his conversation. And whether de- 
scribing his own poverty or the hardness of Barny^s 
girl the smile was still the same, and very white 
teeth showing between beardless lips lit up the 
commonplace ruddy face, and transformed it into 
something that was altogether likeable and fresh 
and young. As they approached the house he 
exclaimed, Why, there is Barny ! Hullo, Bar- 
nabas! Have you dropped like the gentle rain 
from heaven upon the earth beneath?” 

I have not come quite so far,” answered Lord 
Hardcastle, nor,” he added, from such a good 
place. I have been staying near here with my 
aunt, who tells me I am getting scraggy and old, 
and that my hair is growing thin. Why are rela- 
tions so personal? She gave me three bottles of 
hair-oil; and my man tells me they are excellent 
for keeping my shooting boots in order! ” 

They strolled onwards, three abreast., Oh, 


206 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


that Colin could see me now,” thought Christina, 
with so goodly and distinguished a companion 
on either side of me! ” 

You^re stopping here, of course, ain’t you? ” 
said the duke to Lord Hardcastle, who replied, 
Yes! the duchess asked me to come to-morrow, 
but the flesh is weak, and when I could no longer 
endure my aunt’s eyes flxed upon my hair I asked 
if I might drive over here a day sooner.” 

Mr. Prendergast came out on the steps to greet 
them, looking at them at first dreamily, as he 
always did when newly awakened from deep study 
among his books; and the younger men returned 
his greeting with an affectionate, Well, Philoso- 
pher, so awf’ly glad to see you ! ” 

I have a crow to pick with you,” said his 
stepson, leading his stepfather into the library, 
and you are going to have a bad quarter of an 
hour with me! ” 

They disappeared into the library together, 
and Christina and Lord Hardcastle sat down on 
one of the sofas in the hall. 

I always think this is such a charming old 
house,” said Barny, looking up at the great arched 
roof of the room, and the grey stone pillars which 
supported it. 

Shall I tell you how I hid behind those pillars 
one night?” said Christina; and she made Lord 
Hardcastle laugh over her adventure until the roof 
echoed with the sound of it. 

“ Tim really should have warned you,” he said 


THE FOKTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 207 


at last. We all love the little duchess, and 
respect her Spartan methods of retrieving the 
family fortunes. The old lady, you know — Tim’s 
grandmother — the racing duchess, as she is called, 
lost all her money, and even some of the family 
property, in laying long odds upon quite impossible 
horses. And now poor Tim has to pay her joint- 
ure, and his mother’s, out of a very reduced 
estate. Are you hungry now?” he asked Chris- 
tina humourously, when she had finished her 
recital. 

E'ot hungry,” said Christina, but greedy. 
I believe I shall always be greedy now till the 
end of my life! ” 

And you really came down here in the moon- 
light, and hid behind the pillars? ” laughing again. 

By the by, have they put up the electric light 
here yet? The Philosopher is always talking 
about it; and I believe it is now to be done, and 
paid for from that mysterious fund which he 
explains to the duchess, as a sort of perennial 
* influx from some unknown and eminently success- 
ful investment.” 

I believe,” said Christina, the lights are 
being put in now. I know that a number of work- 
men arrived to-day.” 

It will be an immense improvement,” said 
Lord Hardcastle ; for the one fault of this old 
hall is that it is so dark.” 

When they parted to dress for dinner, the 
duke, who had joined them, said to Christina, I 


208 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


have reduced the Philosopher to a state of peni- 
tence bordering on despair/’ 

Which would be very much deeper, and more 
despairing, if he could but know how Miss M‘Nab 
stood outside his room of feasting, and sniffed the 

faint odour of lamb and mint sauce ” 

No, no! not really,” interpolated the duke. 

I believe the duchess still thinks I was a 
wraith,” said Christina, turning her big grey eyes 
upon the duke, '' for she has never spoken to me 
since about our meeting in the corridor.” 

Were you dressed all in white like a ghost? ” 
asked Lord Hardcastle. 

And the two men began playfully describing 
to each other the scene, enjoying their own de- 
scriptions of beautiful Christina creeping from 
pillar to pillar in the moonlight. 

Remember, you are to come to supper with 
us to-night,” said the duke. “ The house-party 
proper does not arrive till to-morrow, and dinner 
will be as frugal an affair as usual. Now, listen! ” 
smiling as he talked, and shaking his finger at the 
girl, this is the rule of the house when we are 
alone. You say good-night to my mother, who 
always goes to bed early, at ten o’clock, and you 
go to your room, and immediately afterwards you 
walk along the corridor to the baize door at the 
far end, and walk down the staircase which leads 
straight into the library, and there we hold our 
midnight revels! ” 

The clear soup, barely covering the silver plate, 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 209 


the morsel of salmon, and fairy slice of game, 
which was served as usual by the four solemn 
men-servants in the tapestry dining-room, had 
never before tasted half so good. Between buns 
and supper, such a meal was perfection. The 
duchess having no viands to help, had the de- 
canters placed iu front of her, and directed the 
butler to give Mr. Prendergast some port, when 
he had asked for claret — with the usual rapid 
glance round the centre decoration of the table 
and the quick command, You will take a little 
port, Mimsey?’^ to which the Philosopher re- 
sponded, Thank you, I really think I should like 
a little port to-night.” 

The guilty feeling with which Christina bade 
her hostess good-night ” was overcome by her 
feelings of anticipation of the novel delights of a 
stolen supper. The Philosopher met her at the 
door of the library, as she came down the stair- 
case in her long black evening gown, and laugh- 
ingly said to her, I am going to give you three 
dry biscuits to keep you company at night! ” 

What fun they had behind those closed baize 
doors in the library that evening! The Philoso- 
pher beamed at them in his genial way behind his 
spectacles, that glistened with good-humour and 
kindliness, as he told them stories of travel and 
adventure, or humorous tales of the people he 
had met in his long and varied life. 

To-morrow, alas! ” he said, as he bade Chris- 
tina good-night,” we shall have to eat a large 


210 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


dinner in the dining-room, and there will he no 
midnight supper/’ 

^ “ I think,” said Christina, “ it is because we 

all feel so guilty that we have enjoyed this supper- 
party so much; but I would fain not think it 
wrong, it was so delightful! 

We must have some more guilty supper- 
parties,” he replied, smiling, when our other 
guests have left us. But Tim, unfortunately, can 
only stay a few days. I don’t know what you 
are doing, Hardcastle! ” 

It was discovered that both men were leaving 
on the fourth day. Something suddenly told 
Christina that she had better take a house in 
town for the season! 



CHAPTEK XIII 

A VERY large party invaded Ximwortli Castle 
the next day. The electric lighting of the ball- 
room was now finished, and a dance was to he 
held there on the second evening after the guests 
arrived. 

If Mimsey likes to spend his money in this 
Avay,” said the duchess, pausing in her morning’s 
exercise with the skipping-rope, he must do as 
he likes. My money goes to Tim, and he might 
be saving these sudden accessions of good fortune 
for his old age. Do not let Mimsey bore you,” 
she called out to two young men who were walking 
up and down the broad gravel sweep in front of 
the entrance-doors, in earnest conversation with 
their guide, philosopher, and friend. Young men 
had that reverent love for the Philosopher which 
his teaching and his charming personality inspired. 
Then she turned to her skipping again, remarking 
in a gasping sort of way between her jumps, My 
husband always does talk such a lot of nonsense; 
I am dreadfully afraid of his boring people.” 

Later in the day, when Mr. Prendergast’s old 
friend, the Professor of Greek, had arrived, there 

211 


212 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

was an earnest discussion going on at his end of 
the luncheon-table with two or three Oxford men, 
and others who were interested in the subject of 
the professor’s book. 

The law of Evolution is not the law of Love,” 
said the grey-haired Greek professor, his old cheeks 
flushed with the strength of the convictions that 
he was now putting into words. The law of 
Evolution is not? the law of Love,” he repeated; 
prove it, my dear Prendergast, if you can ! ” 

I believe in the gift of Death,” said the 
Philosopher, in his fine sonorous voice; — I be- 
lieve in the dignity and beauty of sacrifice qua 
sacrifice; and I think,” he added, and shook back 
with a gesture his thick grey hair, — I think and 

believe with all my heart ” 

My dear Mimsey,” said the duchess, with her 
little jerking glance round the flower garlands, 
you really mustn’t talk such nonsense ! people 
will think you are an idiot.” 

A day or two after this, when Christina was 
walking with the Philosopher, he remarked to her 
that his wife was a woman of extraordinary in- 
tellect. 

Christina thought it was a little unkind of 
a man to speak in this ironic way of his wife, 
until she found that Mr. Prendergast was perfectly 
earnest and ingenuous in his estimate of the 
duchess. 

She has such extraordinary insight into 
things,” he said to her, and such a keen critical 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 213 


faculty, that I hardly ever know the faults of my 
writings until I have submitted them to her.’’ 

Mr. Prendergast made a charming host — a 
character easy to give and as difficult to define: 
and it would be difficult to say exactly where lay 
the charm of the entertainment at Timworth 
Castle which made it so popular a resort. People 
whom one would never suspect of any desire to 
meet each other were drawn together in this pleas- 
antest of country houses; and friendships were 
formed between the most unlikely people, and gen- 
erally lasted for a lifetime. ^N’othing was ever 
forced upon Mr. Prendergast’s guests, either in 
the way of discussions or of amusements, yet dis- 
cussions formed themselves naturally, and were 
listened to eagerly, and amusements seemed to 
come with a sort of easy unconsciousness which 
concealed the fact that they were amusements at 
all. The duchess, with her dogs and her calis- 
thenic exercises, was a singular adjunct to the 
stately house and its grey-haired master, but the 
little lady was so full of good-nature that, with all 
her oddities, she was no check on any one’s enjoy- 
ment; and the rather exacting attentions which 
some hostesses demand were never required by 
one who amused herself without assistance, as did 
the duchess. The vulgarity which distinguishes 
much modern hospitality was not known at Tim- 
worth Castle. Ladies with vague husbands were 
not invited to meet their particular friends there; 
and the tales which maids tell each other in the 


214 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

housekeeper’s room, or which furnish material for 
shilling shockers ” or the Divorce Court, did 
not have their origin in Mr. Prendergast’s house. 

In the hour that comes between the lights, 
the library was generally invaded by those who 
knocked at the door, and asked for a book from 
the shelves, but who generally remained to sit by 
the fire of logs, and chat with the Philosopher, 
whose spare time this was. 

Let us discuss the Universe,” he would say 
with a smile, wheeling round a great leather-cov- 
ered chair to some friend who had invaded the 
sanctity of his own particular room. And in the 
dim light mind spoke to mind with a security which 
glaring light forbids. 

I don’t want to discuss the Universe,” said 
Mrs. Abbott, the author of some novels written 
in English so good that they were called pedantic 
and dull, — I don’t want to discuss the Universe, 
Philosopher; I want you to help me with a descrip- 
tion. How does one describe a gentleman? The 
clumsy expression ^ gentlemanlike ’ always seems 
to me to savour of ^ John Thomas ’ and the serv- 
ants’ hall; and though there is no one more easy 
to recognise than a gentleman, he is a difficult 
person to describe.” 

The Professor of Greek laid down a book that 
he was reading, and said, '' My description of a 
gentleman is in the Fifteenth Psalm.” 

You have to travel a long way back,” laughed 
some one else, to find a gentleman. I suppose 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 215 

that is because we are all rather vulgar nowa- 
days.” 

There I do not agree with you,” said Mrs. 
Abbott quickly, though I know that that sweep- 
ing condemnation commends itself to many. In- 
deed, if you will allow me to say so, I believe that 
the phrase has become almost a vulgarism in itself. 
There is a touch of self-glorification in it, as though 
the person who pronounced judgment had within 
him some standard of nobility to which no one 
that he knew could attain.” 

I think,” said the Philosopher, that I should 
describe a gentleman as one who appealed to our 
highest — one who called forth our best.” And 
quite unconsciously, he rose from his chair, and 
walked across the room to where Lord Hardcastle 
was sitting, and laid his hand with a caressing 
touch upon his shoulder. 

The duke said, I think all the fellows one 
knows are decently well-bred, and all that.” But 
it was not thought that this remark added greatly 
to the interest of the discussion. 

I agree with Mrs. Abbott,” said Lord Hard- 
castle. “ I think the sort of people who are always 
bewailing modern vulgarity have, perhaps, not 
very much opportunity for seeing anything else.” 

Mrs. Abbott thanked him with a smile, and 
said, The argument which amuses me nowadays 
is the one which pleads that when woman has 
become a thinking animal, man will cease to be 
courteous.” 


216 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

Yes/’ said the Philosopher, laughing, I 
have always found that there is in many people’s 
minds an idea that when women have been given 
a seat in Parliament, they will no longer be offered 
a seat in an omnibus.” 

The tap-tap of the duchess’s battledore, as she 
got some exercise in the hall by sending her shut- 
tlecock from one end of it to the other, could be 
heard as the door opened to admit Christina. She 
was always a welcome guest in the library, and 
the Philosopher had already described her to his 
old friend Mr. Langton — the Professor of Greek 
— as one of the few women he knew who did not 
smile unnecessarily. When she does smile,” he 
had said, it is worth remembering.” 

Come and help us ! ” he cried, drawing her 
favourite chair close to his own; Mrs. Abbott 
has set us a puzzle, which none of us can solve. 
How would one describe a gentleman? What is 
your definition? ” 

Well,” said Christina, I do know something 
about this subject, for I heard it earnestly dis- 
cussed the other day by Mrs. Lumley and her 
sister. Mrs. Lumley said a man was a gentleman 
who never wore a tall hat upon the wrong occa- 
sion; and Mrs. Lumley’s sister added that he did 
not use a purse! ” 

The duchess had insisted that the ball which 
was to take place in the evening should be a fancy 
dress one, in order that she might appear in her 
favourite character as Titania. This costume 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 217 


gave the lady the opportunity of flying hither and 
thither on her gauze wings with as much rapidity 
as she liked. Wings excused Her Grace’s flying 
movements, and ought really to have been attached 
to her shoulders at all times. Every one else 
appeared in the costume which seemed to suit 
him or her best, and as no one thought of any- 
thing but their several costumes, the ball had 
that lack of interest which seems inseparable from 
all fancy dress balls. The subject of clothes, even 
from a feminine standpoint, is not sufflciently 
diverting for a whole evening. The gentlemen 
were, for the most part, self-conscious and unhappy 
in their unproven garments, and having conde- 
scended to silks and satins thought it manly to 
speak in a despising way of these materials. 

Miss Anstruther, to whom Christina had con- 
fided the choice of her dress, had sent a robe of 
such exquisite simplicity that it would have been 
a severe test to any beauty less assured than Chris- 
tina’s. Without descending to any strict botanical 
classification. Miss Anstruther called the costume 
simply A Lily,” and one great petal of white 
satin rose high behind Christina’s golden head, 
and made a background of shimmering white, look- 
ing almost like a silver halo round the head of 
some saint of long ago. The girl obtained a ball- 
room triumph, so dear to girlhood, and no one 
seemed to have eyes for any one else in the room. 
The long plain satin dress could be seen here and 
there moving with simple dignity, and Christina’s 


218 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Academy ’’ steps, which were certainly less prim 
now than they had been at her first dance, were 
called dignified and stately by an admiring circle 
that watched her dancing through the first set of 
Lancers. Lord Granston was her partner, and 
Lord Granston, as he himself would have expressed 
it, was struck all of a heap ! ” He was a person 
of goodly countenance himself, and his flowered 
satin coat and powdered head showed off his beauty 
to advantage. Always too, this pleasant-mannered 
youth had almost an old-fashioned courtliness in 
his air. He could dance a minuet better than any 
man in England, and somewhat loved an occasion 
like the present, when his natural courtliness was 
excused by his dress. His fastidiousness was en- 
tirely satisfied by Christina’s calm demeanour, her 
stately steps, and her beautiful dress. It was a 
distinct artistic pleasure to lead this lady through 
the measured figures of the Lancers, and when 
they made their bows to each other. Lord Granston 
felt for the first time in his life that his niceness 
of discrimination was perfectly satisfied. 

At the top of the room the duchess was flying 
through the dance in a very different way, and 
her directions at starting had simply been, When 
in doubt chassez wildly! ” One unfortunate young 
man had been sent flying to the far corner of the 
room by reason of his hands having become un- 
locked in a mad spin round the ladies clustered to- 
gether in that flgure, and dresses were torn, and 
hair ruffled with amazing good temper and energy. 


THE FOKTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 219 


Let us leave this room and go and sit in the 
gallery/^ said Lord Granston, when the Lancers 
had ended. And he offered Christina his arm in 
his graceful fashion, and together they went up 
the broad stairs, and into the long gallery with its 
palms and sofas placed there for the dancers. 

The gallery was dim, the installation of elec- 
tric light in the house not having been completed, 
but out in the broad corridor there was a blaze 
of light. In the archway leading from it Lord 
Hardcastle met her, and then the Duke of South- 
wark; and the four friends in very beautiful and 
regal attire stood framed in the doorway, and 
with the lamps behind them, making indeed an 
attractive picture. Lord Hardcastle and the duke 
both claimed the next dance on Christina’s pro- 
gramme, and Lord Granston with a charming air, 
such as his satin coat allowed, bent and kissed the 
fair girl’s hand, and said, I give my lily up, but 
I wear her on my heart,” and bowed to the ground 
with his hand upon his sword. The picture was 
complete and perfect in its way, and a young man 
standing at the far end of the gallery almost 
clapped his hands. 

And now, you’ve got to choose between us 
two,” said Lord Hardcastle. Will you decide, 
or shall we draw swords for you? ” 

I am very hot,” said Christina, in her simple 
way, and looking from one to another with grey 
eyes in which there was an intoxicating light. I 
will dance with whoever will first find my fan, and 
15 


220 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

bring it to me down there at the end of the gal- 
lery, where it is cool and quiet.” Following the 
example of her lately discharged cavalier, Chris- 
tina swept the gentlemen a splendid courtesy; 
they raised her hand to their lips, and departed 
on their quest, and Christina floated down the 
long gallery between the palms and the couches 
— a tall, beautiful lily, with a golden head. Her 
head was held very high. This splendid evening 
was a triumph, and the quiet eyes shone. The 
light kisses of the knights who had flown to do 
her bidding lingered on her hand; Christina was 
in fairyland! The young man in the gallery, 
who had longed to applaud the picture with its 
background of light in the archway, still stood 
by the window with a coil of wires about his 
shoulders. 

Colin ! ” said Christina. 

The lights have gone wrong,” said Colin 
simply, and they telegraphed for me to come 
down and put them to rights. I must not 
touch you,” he said, for my hands are rather 
black.” 

Colin,” faltered Christina, sinking on to a 
couch, I wish you hadn’t come.” 

''I was very pleased to come,” said Colin; 
“ and I am very pleased to see you to-night, and 
all the ladies in their pretty dresses.” 

The Scottish accent sent Christina’s thoughts 
a long way back. It seems so long since those 
old days,” she said. And for some unknown 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 221 


reason, the light weiit out of her eyes, and her 
voice faltered. 

I am going to be in London now,’’ said Colin ; 
the firm is sending me there, and I am to be at 
the head of the office.” 

“ I am not caring,” said Christina petulantly. 
I want you to tell me that my dress is beautiful, 
and that I am looking lovely, as other gentlemen 
do.” 

I am not sure that I like that thing behind 
your head,” said Colin critically; it looks too 
like a jug or something.” 

I am a lily,” said Christina crossly. 

Colin laughed. You beat them all,” he said 
in a tone of satisfaction. 

You think I do; you really think I do, 
Colin?” 

Yes,” said Colin simply. “ You know I 
always thought there was no one in the world 
like you; but I do not like the way you do your 
hair.” 

The duke likes it,” said Christina haughtily. 

Was the duke the one who kissed your hand 
just now? ” 

They all kissed my hand.” 

I am aware of that,” said Colin, smiling, 
but the one who kissed it first was the one who 
kissed it as if he meant it.” 

That was Lord Cranston,” said Christina, 
in a disappointed tone; but I wish it had been 
the duke who had kissed it as though he meant it.” 


222 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Pairsevere / was Colin’s sole comment. 

I like him very much/’ said Christina nerv- 
ously. Even if he were not a duke I should 
like him.” 

He looks a real nice lad/’ said Colin kindly. 

It is a good thing/’ said Christina, flushing 
a little, that some people I could name like me 
better than ever you used to do. They wouldn’t 
be so pleased to hear that I was going to marry 
another.” 

Colin threw back his head, and laughed. 

Oh, you may not have heard the news yet,” 
said Christina angrily, but you will hear it soon; 
and I am going to have a house in town myself 
this season, and give grand parties, and go to 
Court. The duchess herself is going to pre- 
sent me! ” 

I believe you go in a white dress the first 
time,” said Colin, and carry a bouquet. Ho 
doubt the duchess will put you up to the proper 
way of doing things, but I should like you to have 
everything very correct.” 

Thank you!” 

“ I will find out for you what are the most 
fashionable parts of London, and get you a house 
in one of them.” 

I have a great fancy for one in Grosvenor 
Square,” said Christina. 

And Colin took out his notebook, and took 
down the address, saying, I’ll see that you get 
one, if it is to be had.” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 223 


How is the Assistant? ’’ asked Christina. 

To which Colin replied that the Assistant was 
doing fine, and was preaching splendid sermons 
to crowded congregations on the sin of worldli- 
ness, and the temptation of riches. 

That will be a relief to his feelings,” said 
Christina. I suppose he intends them all for 
me.” 

Yes,” said Colin judicially, and I would 
have checked him, but that I believe a man has 
a right to relieve his feelings in a harmless way; 
and his denunciations do not harm you.” 

I am getting very worldly,” said Christina, 
but you can just tell the Assistant that if he 
were in my place he would become worldly too.” 

Hoots!” said Colin cheerfully, you are 
not very far on the wrong road.” 

Colin,” said Christina a little wistfully — the 
stately lily’s golden head was drooping a little, 
and the soft voice had a touch of pleading in it, 
— I would like to have a talk with you again. 
I have not many old friends here, and I would 

just like to see you, and ask you ” 

“ I am off again by the six o’clock train to- 
morrow morning ” 

— If you could wait ” 

At this moment a lordly figure in low shoes 
and brocaded coat came along the corridor; his feet 
with their fine patrician tread, so used to polished 
floors and lofty galleries, came towards them 
through the palms and foliage. 


224 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

Good-bye,” said Colin, rising and preparing 
to leave by the lower door of the gallery. 

Colin M^Crae,” said Christina, there is not 
a more cold-hearted young man than you in the 
length and breadth of Scotland; and I am very 
glad that there are others who love me better! ” 


CHAPTEE XIY 


Judith Campbell wrote to Miss M^Xab while 
she was still staying at Timworth Castle, and said 
to her: I hear you are looking out for a house 
in London. Why not come and stay with us for 
a few days, and let us do some house-hunting 
together? We can give you a room in this flat 
in which the proverbial cat would have an uneasy 
time, and there isn’t even a hole for your maid, 
but do come next Friday! — Yours ever, 

Judith Campbell. 

“ P.S . — Mother will send the carriage to meet 
you. Look out for the shabbiest brougham at 
King’s Cross Station, and a coachman like a grave- 
digger, and you will know that it is the family 
chariot! Mother says she would be glad to help 
you to get servants. 

P.P.S . — Do you want a sheep dog? ” 

Everything promised well for Christina’s first 
season in town. She took a charming furnished 
house in Grosvenor Square — this having been se- 
cured for her by her friend Mr. M^Crae, and dear 
' 225 


226 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


homely Mrs. Campbell, who enjoyed nothing so 
much as engaging servants, secured a fitting num- 
ber of housemaids, men-servants, and cooks. Mean- 
while, every single lady of Christina’s acquaintance 
wrote and recommended to her some poor relation 
who would make a discreet and invaluable chaperon 
and companion. Each one of these poor relations 
was described as a perfect dear ” ; and the fact 
that each was at present homeless, unemployed, 
and friendless, never seemed to strike their 
patronesses as being any argument against the 
excellent character that they gave them. In the 
end, Christina secured the services of a widowed 
lady of gentle manners and refined appearance, 
the fact that she seemed to be related to no 
one, but was only a very dear friend of Mrs. 
Campbell’s, being a strong argument in her 
favour. 

The fortnight at the Campbells’ flat passed 
very brightly and pleasantly. Judith introduced 
to her guest all her own ineligible young men — 
ineligible because she never, for an instant, enter- 
tained the addresses of an eligible one — and ex- 
plained to Christina that they were no use,” from 
which Christina gathered that they were not mar- 
riageable. 

But when you only want something in trou- 
sers,” said Judith easily, you will find them very 
handy; and they are all the dearest boys.” 

The Campbells took Christina to her first 
theatre. Judith enjoyed the play immensely, and 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 227 


Christina lay awake for a whole night afterwards, 
thinking how very wicked it had been. 

I’ll have to get used to this place,” she 
thought; but it is terrible to have to sit and 
hear such things discussed. A book doesn’t seem 
so bad because it is between boards, and there 
is a sort of privacy about it; plays are just dread- 
ful, but I’m afraid it isn’t the fashion to be 
shocked.” 

Besides her penniless young men, J udith intro- 
duced her to a great number of pleasant people, 
who all hoped to call upon the heiress when she 
was settled at Grosvenor Square. They asked her 
now to informal little dinners at their own houses, 
or to dine at hot, magnificent restaurants which 
smelt of dinner and tobacco smoke, and where 
smartness ” might be purchased at the low price 
of a few guineas, including a very fair dinner. 
There were suppers, too, after the play, at these 
same gorgeously decorated eating-houses, and 
Christina found that it added much to every one’s 
interest and pleasure if some actress who had been 
playing on the boards that night came on to the 
same entertainment. The proximity even of a 
chorus girl was a matter of excitement to smart 
folk, and they would say to each other in de- 
lighted whispers, There is Connie Travers, or 
Cissy Tremaine,” referring to some young lady 
whose performance an hour before had not added 
in a marked degree to any one’s enjoyment. 

In the middle of May, Christina said Au 


228 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


revoir ’’ to her friends and their tiny, expensive 
flat, and went with Mrs. Hayes to the big house 
in Grosvenor Square, with its palm-filled halls 
and drawing-rooms and wide staircase with marble 
steps. Her hall-table was soon covered with cards, 
and her carriage, with its fine grey horses, took 
her out to pay calls. Madam This, and Miss That 
(a dear girl — so poor — and trying to make hats 
pay!) dressed her in the latest fashions. A Bond 
Street jeweller had the honour of waiting upon 
her, and of receiving an order for a necklace of 
diamonds and other ornaments; and everything 
was made very easy for the young lady with the 
long purse who had come to Vanity Fair. Chris- 
tina made her bow to her Sovereign, and was in- 
vited to numerous parties, balls, and routs. Lilah 
Anstruther enjoyed nothing so much as a morn- 
ing’s shopping with her in Bond Street,' and very 
beautiful were the works of art which she devised 
for her friend’s adornment. Christina had her 
portrait painted and her photograph taken, and 
flattering accounts of her and her unusual beauty 
appeared in journals whose circulation depended 
upon the meed of praise which they gave to the 
right people. 

There were also to be found persons of expe- 
rience willing to give Christina the benefit of that 
experience, and to steer her course through the 
shoals and quicksands of Society, gaining for them- 
selves, it may be, a certain distinction from their 
privileged position as pilot to so fair and well-laden 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 229 


a ship. Such, for instance, was Lady Tarbutt, 
particular but broad-minded — O happy combina- 
tion! — who ran millionaires as a fashionable pur- 
suit, and could give introductions to the best 
houses in London. 

The Dickson-Clays, whose breathless climbing 
had landed them upon an eminence in Society from 
which they could look down upon South Kensing- 
ton, eagerly sought the acquaintanceship of Miss 
M^Kab. They called upon her with devoted punc- 
tuality, took her to the Park, and were able to 
point out to a nicety the yards of pathway where 
it was fashionable to walk, and the forbidden ways 
that lay beyond this line of demarcation where it 
was unpardonable to be seen. The Dickson-Clays 
knew every possible and impossible rule of Society, 
and they studied them so carefully that they had 
never been known to make a mistake. Their cards 
of invitation were sent out with scrupulous exact- 
ness — the wording of them correct, and the very 
cards upon which they were printed being of the 
orthodox pattern. If blue was the fashionable 
colour of the season, the Miss Dickson-Clays were 
to be seen in blue. If rinking was the fashion, 
the Miss Dickson-Clays rinked. Did slumming 
become the vogue, they slummed. Even the 
religion of the Dickson-Clays was fashionable, and 
the very latest thing from Kew York or Hin- 
dostan was adopted with fervour for the two or 
three seasons during which they were in vogue 
by these devoted votaries of fashion. 


230 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Mrs. Vigors and her friend Miss Leech — that 
poor Leech girl/’ as she was called — took an early 
opportunity of being introduced to the heiress, 
and of calling upon her. Miss Leech was that 
modern product, a girl-chaperon. It is interesting 
to note the phases that have attended this matter 
of the care of our women in England. Long, 
long ago — only, of course, no one can remember 
this bygone time — it is recorded as a matter of 
ancient history that young ladies were supposed 
to return to their mammas and chaperons between 
the dances, and even in extreme cases to introduce 
their partners to them. Twenty years later mam- 
mas looked after their daughters without inter- 
fering much with them. They smiled sleepily on 
the back benches of a ball-room, occupied, it is 
true, a considerable amount of space, and were 
taken in to supper with some formality, according 
to their rank. Since then the career of the chape- 
ron has been brief and her downfall complete. 
Mammas refused to chaperon daughters; daugh- 
ters refused to be chaperoned by mammas. Hos- 
tesses refused to have back benches in drawing- 
rooms, and Society, after first shrieking in horror, 
The new woman ! she comes, she comes ! ” gradu- 
ally learnt that no particular danger attaches itself 
to girls dancing in a friend’s drawing-room without 
the sleepy protecting eye of mamma upon them. 
The emancipation of the daughters was triumphant 
and complete; but the tables were cruelly turned 
upon them when mammas were no longer allowed 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 231 


to occupy back benches; they danced^ while the 
girls sat down! Matrimony was no longer the 
final exit from the polished fioors of ball-rooms. 
No one’s dancing days were evnr over, and girls 
sighed for the good old times, as they watched 
matrons, whirling by on a cherished partner’s arm, 
or acted as green gooseberry through the flirta- 
tions of their married lady friends, and were rele- 
gated to the companionship of some old gentleman 
who paid them compliments, or a beardless boy 
whom nobody wanted. We have our independ- 
ence,” sighed the maidens, and in years to come 
men wilt have grown accustomed to our being 
free, and we shall profit by it. But for the present 
they are afraid of it, and only the married woman, 
sheltering beneath our maidenhood, profits by it 
at all.” 

Miss Leech had been Mrs. Vigors’ faithful 
companion and chaperon ever since that unfor- 
tunate season when, having done pretty much as 
she liked for many seasons, Mrs. Vigors was 
talked about ” with Captain Bruce, which shows, 
as Mrs. Vigors always said, that it depends upon 
where you live and who the man is! No one had 
ever commented upon Mrs. Vigors’ behaviour when 
she lived in Belgrave Koad, but having moved to 
a newly decorated house in Green Street, and 
walked in the Park with Captain Bruce, who was 
smart, the world talked. Miss Leech’s constant 
attendance was the stopper that Mrs. Vigors had 
placed upon the lips of Society. Miss Leech was 


232 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Mrs. Vigors’ appeal to the nations that her re- 
spectability was unimpeachable, so she was never 
seen without Miss Leech, l^ot that the girl lived 
in the house; a paid companion would give an air 
of suspicion to an establishment. She was only 
a dear friend ” unpaid, save by such chiffons as 
fell from the rich woman’s table. And coming 
from a dull home where her presence was not 
demanded. Miss Leech was able to believe in Mrs. 
Vigors’ integrity, and to gain an entry into a world 
more amusing and brighter than her own by reason 
of this impregnable faith in her patroness. Mrs. 
Vigors was now re-established. She went every- 
where, and did everything; but, as a matter of 
choice, she preferred, perhaps, to take for her 
friends some new arrival in Vanity Fair wLo did 
not remember that awful season wLen invitations 
had been few, and Captain Bruce’s visits many. 
The contemptible little woman, whose highest 
standard of right and wrong was the opinion of the 
world, acted with great discretion on all points. 
She dropped Miss Leech altogether, and gained a 
reflected glory by driving the popular heiress in 
her carriage, and taking her to parties where their 
two names were generally to be seen coupled to- 
gether. 

Lilah Anstruther said to Christina one day. 
My dear, why do you go about with the Vigors 
woman ? ” 

Is there any reason why I shouldn’t? Is she 
a wicked woman? ” asked Christina, whose simple 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 233 


rectitude and old-fashioned faith could see no shade 
of grey in the matter of conduct, but whose black 
was black, and her white, white. 

Oh, no; of course not. Every one knows her, 
but she ran a narrow shave of being cut a year 
or two ago,’’ replied Lilah. “ I suppose she writes 
notes to you every day; you must tell fibs and 
say you are always engaged. She will soon un- 
derstand.” 

London was certainly a dreadful place, and 
Christina’s opinion of it had never been shaken 
since the first evening she arrived at Euston Sta- 
tion. The next morning when Mrs. Vigors’ daily 
note arrived, suggesting some afternoon teas, and 
a drive in the Park together, Christina’s grave 
reply was to the effect that she thanked Mrs. 
Vigors very much, but begged to be excused that 
afternoon from accepting her polite invitation. 
Mrs. Vigors understood, and said to herself, I 
wish one knew exactly what people said of one ! ” 
For the worshippers of public opinion are ever at 
a discount, the voice for whose inflections they 
so keenly wait is seldom above a whisper, and 
cannot be clearly heard. 

The Dickson-Clays redoubled their attentions 
to Miss M^I^ab, and Lilah, in her character of 
Mentor, said, Oh, know them if you like. They 
are all right — vulgar but not vicious; so many 
people are both.” 

Lady Tarbutt had decided that Christina should 
marry her second son : I cannot stand tubes for 


234 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M'NAB 

the eldest/’ she said, but for Clifford, on his 
Lieutenant’s pay, Christina would be admiraWy 
suited.” 

Clifford was home on leave, and Lady Tarbutt 
became almost peremptory in her advice to Chris- 
tina to marry her boy. She seldom allowed the 
girl two minutes’ conversation with any other gen- 
tleman in the room when Clifford was present; 
and she had an alarming way of bearing down 
upon a group, and extracting Christina, from it in 
much the same way as an eagle would swoop down 
upon a flock of sheep, and carry off a pet morsel 
to its eyrie. 

“ It is ridiculous that she does not like Cliff,” 
said Lady Tarbutt one day, when talking to her 
friend Lady Mabel Dundas. Clifford is young, 
good-looking, and he will have the Buckingham- 
shire place. What more does she want? I do 
dislike these slow, deliberate, Scottish ways.” 

She is very charming, isn’t she? ” said Lady 
Mabel. I have not seen her yet, but my brother 
met her down at Popples, and has asked Muriel 
and me to call upon her.” 

We are going this afternoon,” said Muriel. 

I wish you could And out,” said Lady Tar- 
butt, when you are there, if she has really made 
up her mind to capture the Duke of Southwark. 
Of course, if she means to have him. I’ll try for 
something else for Cliff. There is that Eisler girl, 
with thousands a year in oil; but then, I never 
know how long oil goes on running, or whether it 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 235 


will suddenly stop one day. I wish one knew 
more about these things. And I believe there 
is a girl who makes machines or something, who 
has bought a lovely place in the Midlands. I 
could send Cliff down to stay near there, if Miss 
M^i^ab is obdurate.” 

Lady Muriel Stonor, whose parents were dead, 
lived with her sister at whose house Lady Tarbutt 
had been calling. She was a tiny creature, very 
fair and very pretty, with a little wistful face and 
golden hair; and as she and Lady Mabel were start- 
ing for their drive that afternoon, she raised big 
swimming eyes to Mabeks face, and said with 
trembling lips, ‘‘ Please, I don^t think I want 
to go.” 

‘‘ I don’t think I should believe a word Lady 
Tarbutt says,” replied Mabel energetically. 

“ But you know it would be a good thing for 
him,”, said Muriel, only I do love him so,” she 
added, putting a little cambric pocket-handkerchief 
to her eyes. 

Come and call upon her,” said Mabel, linking 
her arm in her sister’s, “ things will be so much 
easier when we have seen Miss M^^Tab and made 
up our minds what sort of girl she is.” 

Miss M^I^ab was at home, and received her 
guests in a vast white drawing-room half filled 
with pink azaleas. The sisters introduced them- 
selves, and made a few pleasant remarks about 
Christina’s acquaintance with their brother. They 
talked about the Drummonds and Poplar’s Court, 
16 


236 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

and Muriel, who had sat with downcast eyes look- 
ing at the very pretty white gloved hands ^at lay 
in her lap, looked up suddenly, and said, South- 
wark stayed at Popples for a time, also, did he 
not? ” 

Yes,’’ said Christina, and he has been to 
call upon me several times since I came to 
London.” 

Muriel gave her sister a despairing glance. 

Tim is a nice boy, isn’t he,” said Mabel, 
knowing from the glance that the subject was to 
be continued, if possible. 

A most agreeable young man,” said Chris- 
tina. 

Differences must be allowed for nationality, 
but Lady Muriel brightened at Christina’s re- 
sponse. She herself could never have described 
dear Tim ” as an agreeable young man. Did 
he stay long? ” she asked feverishly. . 

Ten days the first time, and five days the 
second time,” replied Christina, “ and I met him 
afterwards at his mamma’s.” 

Anne told us you had gone on to Timworth,” 
said Lady Mabel. Is the duchess as energetic 
as ever? ” 

Christina said, ^‘Yes; she is a perfect tor- 
nado! ” 

And Southwark was there, too, you say?” 
interposed Muriel again. He said he was going 
there, but I do not think he told us how long he 
stayed.” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 237 


Nearly a week/’ replied Christina. 

Muriel gav« her sister a tragic look, and pres- 
ently they rose and took their leave. 

I hope you will come and see us,” said Mabel 
kindly, and we must ask Southwark to come too. 
Will you dine with us some evening? It will be 
so nice if you will.” 

An arrangement was made for a quiet dinner- 
party the following week, and having shaken 
hands, Christina walked to the stair-case with her 
friends, and made two separate and distinct re- 
marks to them over the banisters, which she 
understc ">d was the correct thing to do. She then 
returned to the azaleas in the drawing-room, and 
watched the Dundas’ carriage drive away: Those 
will be Captain Stonor’s sisters,” she said, keek- 
ing ” from behind the blinds, “ and I think I have 
heard the duke mention them. I wish he had 
come in when they were here; but, after all, per- 
haps he does not know them very well, and he did 
not think he would be able to call till after five 
o’clock.” 

A few minutes later, the young duke with his 
red hair, his light eyelashes, and his delightful 
smile, entered the room. I met Lady Mabel 
Dundas and her sister just now,” he remarked; 

they tell me that you are dining with them next 
week, and that I am to come too. I am so glad; 
I have wanted you to know them.” 

Why? ” said Christina. 

The duke smiled foolishly, and broke into a 


238 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


laugh : “ I wanted you very particularly to know 
them/’ he said, as though there was some exquisite 
joke, which only he could see. 

Christina was pleased. She thought, He 
wants me to know his friends, and what should 
that be for unless he has intentions? But, guid- 
sakes, what a time the laddie was making up his 
mind! ” 

The young man eat his usual hearty tea, and 
made a dozen plans for Christina’s amusement. 

I want you to see a lot of Lady Mabel and her 
sister,” he said. We might have a day on the 
river, mightn’t we? or I could get Venables to 
drive us on his coach to Dorking, but let us have 
a happy day somewhere.” 

Christina was pleasant and accommodating, as 
usual, and thought she would prefer a coaching 
party to a day on the river. Then, recollecting 
that there was little privacy to be had on the top 
of a coach, while in boats couples could pair off 
as they liked, so changed her mind, and voted for 
a picnic on the river. 

After all,” she said firmly, I should pre- 
fer the water party,” and the duke acquiesced 
easily. 

“We can go down rather late, when it is cool,’' 
he said, “ and then row, and dine at one of the 
inns.” 

This exactly suited Christina’s ideas of furnish- 
ing an opportunity for a declaration of love. 

“ Will you row me,” she said, in her business- 


THE FORTUNE OP CHRISTINA M‘NAB 239 


like way. The daughter of the maker of tubes 
left nothing to chance. 

And the duke replied — Oh, ah — yes of 
course, delighted, delighted, unless,’’ he added 
lamely, you would prefer some one else ! Bun- 
kins, for instance, is a much better oar than I am.” 

But Christina was firm. I should prefer you 
to row me,” she replied. 

The following week, a very bright, chatty, well- 
dressed party assembled at Waterloo Station, clad 
in light colours, and with sunshades, and dust 
cloaks on their arms, to go down and have a 
picnic on the river. Some footmen were in charge 
of the baskets, and the duke’s superior valet stood 
guard over the door of a saloon carriage, and had 
already furnished the centre table of the compart- 
ment with an abundant supply of light literature 
and flowers. The superior valet presently an- 
nounced that the party had better take their seats, 
and the ladies entering first, sat side by side, 
while the gentlemen grouped themselves together 
at the other end of the carriage. The arrange- 
ment was not considered to be a happy one, but 
it was maintained until Kingston was reached, 
when the better disposition of the party was 
attempted. The duke said feebly, How are we 
to divide? ” and thus made it quite impossible for 
his guests to state their wishes in respect of their 
companion for the afternoon. The girls put on 
an oblivious expression, and several gentlemen 
gave whispered advice to the duke, while the boat- 


240 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

men on the bank wanted to give assistance, and 
the party delayed itself in a hopeless sort of inde- 
cision. The opportunity was Lady Tarbutt’s, and 
she profited by it. 

What are we all waiting for?” she said 
briskly. Cliff, you take Miss M^Nab. Mr. An- 
struther, please row Lady Mabel Dundas. Now, 
dear Miss Campbell, whom shall I appoint to look 
after you? Mr. Venables — capital! ” 

A horrid, rich young man like that,” mur- 
mured Judith, a wretch who knows his value 
with mammas, and whom girls run after. Well, 
he shall not have a pleasant row this afternoon — 
of that I am determined! ” 

Another young man of the party was evidently 
not to have a very enjoyable afternoon either. 
He sat in the boat with a silent, regretful beauty, 
whom his mother — ignoring all Christina^s pro- 
testations as to other arrangements having been 
made previously — had herself assisted into the 
boat, with a bright decision that was impossible 
to combat. 

Lady Tarbutt continued her despotic mar- 
shalling, ending up with, Dear me, Captain 
Stonor, I am afraid there is no one left for you 
but your sister! ” 

Here the duke interposed, and said, I am 
afraid that won’t do. Will you look after Miss 
Anstruther, Thomas? ” he said to Captain Stonor, 
and seated himself in the boat with Thomas’ sister 
Muriel. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 241 


You ought to have rowed Miss M^Nab, Tim/’ 
said Muriel as soon as the boat had shot away 
from the bank, raising her big eyes from which 
the tears never seemed very far away in these 
days, to the young ruddy-cheeked man with his 
light eyelashes and sandy hair, and the common- 
place jolly face which Muriel was convinced was 
handsomer than any other in England. 

I ought,” replied Tim, smiling as he spoke, 
with that air of irrepressible jollity which distin- 
guished himself, I ought, no doubt, but you see 
I didn’t.” 

Muriel locked two very small white hands to- 
gether upon the lap of a babyish little muslin 
gown with blue ribbons, in which she looked an 
adorable person altogether. Tim,” she said, I 
have been thinking about something for a long 
time, and I want to speak to you about it. You 
know I have not a penny in the world, and you 
have not a penny in the world, except about eight 
hundred pounds a year, poor Tim.” 

“ Granny cannot go on backing wrong ’uns for 
ever,” said the duke hopefully. She is nearly 
seventy now, and you know when I have not her 
jointure to pay, I shall be much better off than 
I am now.” 

She will leave a great many debts behind 
her,” said Muriel, shaking her head. “ Mabel’s 
husband says that she has been losing a great deal 
of money lately; he calls her ^ the hooky’s friend.’ 
Oh, why are old ladies so sporting? ” 


242 THE FORTUNE (^F CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

I confess,” said the duke, “ that I did not 
make a very wise selection when I chose my grand- 
mother; and I have not brought her up very care- 
fully, I^m afraid.” 

“ Oh, Tim, you laugh,” cried Muriel tragically, 
but to me it is all so very sad.” 

To me it is not at all very sad,” said Tim, 
resting on his oars, and leaning forward to take a 
long look into the blue eyes under the shady hat, 
because I know I am so awfully fond of you, 
and always have been, and always shall be, so what 
is the good of bothering? ” 

Muriel gave him one expressive glance in which 
the love of a life-time — not a very long life, it is 
true, but a very guileless and sweet little exist- 
ence — was sent like a bow from an arrow straight 
into a commonplace, healthy, happy young Eng- 
lishman’s heart. 

But I want you to be very sensible, dear,” 
Muriel went on, and I am really speaking in 
earnest. I want you to give up thinking about 
me altogether. We might be quite old people 
before we were able to marry, and even then, 
Tim, you would never be able to live at any of 
your own places, unless you found coal, or some- 
thing.” 

“ Do you think the sudden discovery of coal 
at Timworth would really save me? ” laughed the 
duke. 

Please don’t laugh, Tim. We went to call 
on Miss M^^^’ab the other day; she is so lovely. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 243 


I think, and she has twenty thousand a year which 
her father made in tubes, or something. But it 
is all hers, every penny of it; and not only that, 
but Lady Tarbutt seems to think that she likes 
you very much. I think — I think — you ought 
to forget all about me, and marry Christina 

The duke threw back his head, and laughed 
again. Christina is perfectly charming,’’ he said, 
but then, you know, she isn’t yow.” 

“ I cannot make you serious,” sighed Muriel. 

Well, now, I am going to be quite serious, 
and if you would just take the tiller ropes, instead 
of clasping your hands in that sweet little way, 
we shouldn’t run into quite so many boats as we 
seem to have been doing.” 

Lady Muriel obediently took the white cords 
in her tiny hands, and by sharply pulling the 
wrong one, very nearly finished her serious con- 
versation by plunging them both into the water. 
Her mistake having been repaired, the duke set- 
tled to his rowing with long, easy strokes, and the 
lady with the blue eyes, and the child-like little 
face, continued to give her sage counsel. 

I want you to promise me one thing, Tim. 
You know we have always considered we were 
engaged to each other ever since we were quite 
little children.” 

Yes, I know that,” said the duke, ever 
since you wore short frocks and blue ribbons, and 
had your hair down your back.” 


244 THE FORTTJNH OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


Well, just for the present, I want you not 
to consider yourself engaged to me any more. I 
ask this as a very special favour.” 

I don’t think it matters,” said the duke, 
whether we are engaged or not. We know we 
shall never like any one else in the way that we 
like each other.” 

IN^ow, that is very dear and sweet of you,” 
said Muriel, looking as miserable as a very sunny- 
faced little person with blue eyes and pink cheeks 
could look. “ You see we have never really been 
engaged — I mean, we have never had it put in the 
Morning Post, nor had presents given to us, nor 
anything of that sort. We have only just known 
between ourselves that we cared for each other.” 

I think it is such a happy arrangement,” said 
Tim, and when Granny dies ” 

Hush ! please don’t get on to Granny’s death 
yet. I want you to give me your solemn promise 
that for the next — say, the next year — you won’t 
consider yourself the least bit engaged to me, even 
in a private sort of way. And we won’t write 
letters to each other, or anything.” 

Then I shall have to come and live in Lon- 
don,” said the duke, because I can’t possibly get 
on without seeing you or hearing from you.” 

I think,” said Muriel wistfully, that it 
would not be wrong to let Mabel write to you 
sometimes.” 

Ho,” said Tim, I don’t think that would 
be very wrong.” He was still laughing. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 245 


But when Muriel — unconsciously quoting from 
some romances of her school-girl days — said ear- 
nestly, And everything is quite over between us,’’ 
he stopped laughing, and his boyish face flushed. 
Everything is not all over between us,” he said, 
and I am only giving in to granting you the 
promise you have asked for, because I don’t think 
it matters one hang whether we call ourselves 
engaged or whether we don’t. We shall always 
care for each other, at least, I know I shall always 
care for you.” 

Still it is a promise,” persisted Muriel, as 
they stepped ashore. 

Oh, yes, it is a promise, if you like,” said 
the duke. 

Tea was spread, and the kettle was boiling 
when they landed in the woods where the picnic 
was to take place. Every one seemed a little 
cross, and even Judith Campbell’s good-humour 
had deserted her. Mr. Clifford Tarbutt had duti- 
fully proposed to Miss M^ITab on their voyage up 
the river, and had been politely requested not to 
be so silly. 

She won’t have me, mamma,” he whispered 
to his mother, as that domineering lady was trying 
to apportion the party their places round the 
table-cloth. 

You have mucked it, as usual, I suppose,” 
was his mother’s sole and brief reply. Her irrita- 
tion caused in her an absence of mind which gave 
this party some chance of assorting itself in the 


246 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


manner more suited to the individual wishes of 
each. People were at last allowed to sit down 
where they liked, and to say what they liked, 
while Lady Tarbutt sat and plotted how she could 
obtain an invitation for the rejected Cliff to stay 
at that place in Midlands now rented by the heiress 
of the late machinist. 

The Duchess of Southwark, whose country 
residence was some twenty miles from the scene 
of the picnic, rode over on her bicycle, and found 
the party underneath the trees. 

I do not like picnics,’’ she said, stooping down 
and frankly raising her bicycle skirt to unbutton 
some strap connected with its proper adjustment, 
every one eats too much; but it seemed a chance 
of getting a little exercise.” 

She ate a water biscuit with evident enjoyment, 
and then announced that she must, without fail, 
go to the village and buy a bob’s worth of some- 
thing to take home as a memento. ^^ow, when 
all you good people have done stoking,” she said, 
addressing the company, let us take a run to 
the village shop, and buy a mug with ^ A Present 
for a Good Girl ’ on it, or something of that sort. 
What’s the good of going for a day’s outing, if 
you do not take home a memento? ” 

The party, therefore, walked across the fields 
to the village shop, whose ceiling was hung with 
boots, and its windows filled with tinned meats 
and cheeses; and Lady Tarbutt being occupied 
with her own sad thoughts, stayed behind with 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 247 


the tea-baskets, to the relief and advantage of all 
concerned. 

Muriel Stonor drew hack, and strolled about 
with her brother, and the duke sat on a stile with 
Christina, who said to him, “ I’m real vexed at 
you ; I am ^ English ’ vexed, not ^ Scotch ’ vexed ! ” 

“ What is the difference? ” laughed the duke. 

English vexed means cross,” replied Chris- 
tina, smiling, and Scotch vexed means simply 
that you are grieved. I am not grieved; I am 
very cross.” 

I am Scotch vexed,” said the duke, in a tone 
of pleasant repartee which had not a touch of 
seriousness in it, I am deeply, deeply grieved 
that we did not row up here together this after- 
noon.” 

“What time do we return?” asked Miss 
M^bTab, giving His Grace so obvious an opening 
for suggesting that he should be her escort on 
the return journey, that he, being the most pliable 
of men, instantly did as he was bound to do. 

“ You will forgive me, and let me row you 
down to Taplow. We are going to dine there, 
you know, and take the train back, after din- 
ner.” 

Here was Christina’s opportunity, and she 
nerved herself to profit by it. This evening in 
the long tender twilight on the placid river, would 
be the time when Christina M^Hab would be 
invited to become a duchess. They returned to 
the wood to join the embarking party, but Chris- 


248 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


tina kept ne^ to her escort the whole time, and 
at a safe distance from Lady Tarbutt’s machina- 
tions. 

The duchess, meanwhile, had bought a little 
mug, and a shell box which she proceeded to tie 
on to the handle bar of her bicycle; and then 
occupied herself in the interval before starting by 
bowling lobs at black bottles bobbing in the river. 
She wished to accompany the party on the first 
stages of their water journey, and offered to tow 
any boat of the number; but she decided that she 
must do without the excellent exercise that this 
would afford, because she never liked to leave 
Mimsey for long. There is no saying what 
stupidity he would be guilty of if left alone for 
many hours.^^ They bade her Good-bye,” and 
watched her scorching back to her home, and then, 
still profiting by Lady Tarbutt’s absence of mind, 
the picnickers disposed themselves as they pleased, 
and rowed down to Taplow. 

Christina was not one to take the initiative; 
she merely waited for the duke to begin. 

I am so glad you know the Stonors,” he said, 
they are great friends of mine.” He wanted to 
tell his delightful, sympathetic companion of the 
understanding between himself and Muriel, but 
recollected his promise, and remained silent. 

Christina also was silent : that was not the way 
in which a proposal of marriage began. 

Again the duke lifted up his voice, and this 
time remarked, without any overdone brilliancy 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 249 


of conversation, “ I cannot stand that Tarbutt 
woman. Why do you know her? ” 

I think she is running me,’’ said Christina 
simply: and the duke laughed aloud. Christina’s 
simplicity, combined with her powers of penetra- 
tion, always tickled the young man’s sense of 
humour. 

“ I do not think you require much running,” 
he said heartily; it seems to me that everybody 
is running after you, and they tell me that you 
are turning all the fellows’ heads.” 

“ I am turning a few,” said Christina compla- 
cently; “but,” she added, “it is not always those 
I want who want me.” 

There was something so unanswerable about 
this remark, which yet seemed to invite a reply, 
that the duke could only smile in rather a feeble 
fashion, and say lamely, “ I am sure everybody 
wants you.” (The proposal was coming!) 

“ Do they? ” said Christina. Her voice was 
full of encouragement. 

“ Well, nearly everybody,” said the duke cheer- 
fully, and the boyish tone was devoid of sentiment. 

Christina was distinctly disappointed. She sat 
for • some moments without speaking, and then 
remarked darkly: “Perhaps, when some people 
find out what they want, it may be too late.” 
But the threat was too ambiguous to be very 
alarming, and Christina realised this. She moved 
impatiently in her seat, and like some mother who 
holds out a glittering toy to attract the admiration 


250 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


of a child, Christina made a laborious attempt at 
introducing the inspiring topic of her wealth into 
her conversation. I wish I knew how to spend 
quite so much money all by myself,’’ she said. 

I should think that was easy enough,” said 
the duke gaily, you don’t care for racing, of 
course, but you could buy a yacht, or something 
jolly of that sort.” 

Christina rushed to the opening prepared for 
her. Are you fond of yachting? ” she said. 

ISTo, I am not,” said the duke frankly, the 
fact is I always get beastly sea-sick.” (Then what 
was the use of a yacht? Oh, how dense some 
people were!) 

Every one had told Christina that the duke 
of Southwark must marry money, and that she — 
Christina M^Nab — had sufficient to support the 
ducal strawberry leaves. Why, therefore, this 
hopeless dilatoriness in settling the business? A 
bargain was a bargain, and Christina was waiting 
for what she called in her commercial phraseology, 
a firm offer 1 ” 

Some people,” she said, relapsing into am- 
biguous terms again, do not know when fortune 
lies at their feet.” 

I do not see how any one can,” said the duke 
easily. I mean, you never know how a thing 
is going to turn out. Look at Granny! She has 
been backing wrong ’uns for fifty years.” 

The estates must be heavily involved,” said 
Christina eagerly. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M^NAB 251 


They are a bit dipped/’ acquiesced the duke, 
but after all, poor old Granny cannot keep run- 
ning us into debt for ever.” 

There will be heavy death duties when your 
mamma dies,” said Christina lugubriously. 

To which His Grace responded, Oh, I do 
hope my dear mother isn’t going to die yet a bit ! ” 
Another pause. What a jolly evening it is ! ” 
said the duke, looking round him at the level green 
fields, and the woods beyond. I always think an 
evening like this is so ripping, and I like to watch 
the birds and beasts, and things, don’t you? ” 

Drat the man! Had he no eyes for some- 
thing ten times lovelier than the animal or vege- 
table world? A being with hair like a golden 
aureole, and offering — nay, pressing — eighteen 
thousand a year upon him! 

Christina cleared her throat, and deliberately 
threaded her conversational way back to thef vault 
and the funeral urn again. “ Even if your grand- 
mamma and your mamma were dead,” she per- 
sisted, the estates may be encumbered for a 
hundred years to come.” 

Oh, with luck,” said the duke, we shall all 
be dead by that time.” (The village, and the 
river-side Inn were growing nearer and nearer.) 

Don’t exert yourself,” said Christina, “ there 
is no hurry.” 

I am so hungry,” said the duke. 

You ate a big enough tea,” said Christina 
crossly. 

17 


252 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

The duke laughed. Do you remember the 
hubs that we ate in the baker’s shop at Timworth? ” 
he asked. 

Yes,” said Christina joyfully, and the 
supper-party at night.” It was a delightful time 
to look back upon. I like Timworth Castle,” 
she said, with an attempt at sentimentality, I 
should like to go back there again some day.” 

I hope you will,” said the young man hos- 
pitably, “ I am sure we should love to have you. 
Is that Bunkins’ boat ahead of us, and shall we 
pull up and row alongside of them? ” 

Xo,” said Christina, with quick decision; 
you would oblige me by keeping at a distance 
from them.” 

Poor Bunkins,” said the duke humourously. 
The writer of plays had confessed to his friend, 
when allowing him to read the manuscript of his 
late tragedy, that the red-haired heroine who had 
spurned his suit was intended for Christina, and 
was taken from his own sad, personal experience. 
The duke felt sorry for Bunkins, and now tried to 
put in a word in his favour. He’s an awfully 
good chap,” he said. 

Yes, yes! ” said Christina impatiently; but 
never mind that just now.” (Only five minutes 
more, and the hotel would be reached!) Oh, for 
more knowledge of the way these things were 
managed! Oh, for Jessie’s book of quotations! 
Oh, for any power to open the eyes of a blind 
young man! 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 253 


I think you would be happier married/’ said 
Christina, desperately. 

Oh, so do I,” said the duke heartily, thinking 
of the lady in the white muslin gown. 

Was this — could this — be the beginning of a 
proposal. 

Go on,” said Christina. 

“ I forget what I was talking about,” said the 
duke. 

You were talking about marriage,” said the 
assisting voice. 

^ Oh, ah, yes, about marriage. I was saying 
I wish I could get married.” 

Yes,” said Christina helpfully. 

You see. Miss M^i^ab ” — (She was such a 
dear girl, he really would like to tell her about 
Muriel) — you see. Miss M^i^ab, I care for some 

one very much, but ” 

A little bouquet of flowers fell into Christina’s 
lap: ^^Hi-hi! Hi-hi! ” shouted some voice from 
the shore; you are steering all wrong; you are 
going right past the hotel. Hi! dinner is ready, 
and you are the last to arrive. Tim, you are a 
lazy dog, and have not been pulling half hard 
enough. That is right. Miss M^Hab; give me your 
hand, and let me help you ashore! A minute 
more, and you would have gone past the hotel.” 

A minute more,” thought Christina, and 
I might have been saying ^ Yes ’ to a diike! I 
must give him another opportunity.” 


CHAPTEK XY 


Christina meditated giving an entertainment 
on a large scale, and she suggested to Lady Tar- 
butt that it should take the form of a concert. 
Concerts were fashionable at present, Christina 
thought. 

Give a concert if you like,’^ said the keen 
administrator, whom she consulted, but there 
is only one way to make such an entertainment 
a success. Melba must sing, and you must get 
two Koyalties, at least, to come, and screw them 
down into the two front chairs of your drawing- 
room.’^ 

Royalties being beyond Christina’s scope, she 
suggested that she should give a ball. Lady Tar- 
butt heartily concurred. Her hopes of an alliance 
between the heiress and her son had suffered ship- 
wreck, but there was still entertainment and profit 
to be derived from running millionaires. Lady 
Tarbutt liked to have plenty of invitations to send 
out, and it was a successful item at a party to be 
able to introduce young men to Christina, with 
the whispered recommendation, “ She has thirty 
thousand a year.” 

254 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 255 


A ball would be splendid, my dear, but give 
us eighty-four shillings a dozen champagne, or 
not a living man do I ask! 

It would seem that there is a keen, business-like 
instinct in Society, as well as in trade, but it takes 
a little while to conform the unaccustomed mind 
to this idea. Christina promised that the cham- 
pagne should cost eighty-four shillings a dozen, 
and Lady Tarbutt continued: — 

‘‘ You must hand over the whole of the invita- 
tions to me, of course,’^ she said firmly. I shall 
know best who to ask, and do not think for a 
moment, my dear, of being kind or hospitable, or 
of asking old friends. Old friends spoil a dance 
— that is, of course, unless you have been in 
Society all your life — they look dowdy, and spoil 
everything. Oh, my dear, I have steered so many 
people through the world, that I know exactly 
how it ought to be done; and it is one of my 
firmest rules to have the entire distribution of 
invitation cards, and to exclude friends of the 
past.’^ 

“ I have no old friends,” said Christina, with 
spirit, but if I had, I should certainly ask them.” 

Who was that young fellow I saw in your 
drawing-room one day? I mean an extraordinarily 
good-looking person in ^somewhat barbaric dress,” 
asked Lady Tarbutt, with the air of a private 
detective. 0 

Oh, that was just Colin — Colin M^Crae, that 
is; he is in the London Scottish,” said Christina, 


256 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


embarrassed, he called just to see the house, and 
how I was getting on. He says he is not coming 
back again for the present, but he has asked for 
the contract if I want any extra electric light for 
the dance.’^ 

Oh, a tradesman, I presume,’’ said Lady 
Tarbutt. 

Yes,” said Christina, an electrical engi- 
neer.” 

Excuse my saying so, my dear, but, of course, 
one couldn’t have a person like that at your dance.” 

Ho fear,” said Christina, Colin would not 
come if I asked him.” 

A most sensible young man.” 

The following day Lady Tarbutt called with 
contracts and estimates ; specifications from fiorists, 
menus from purveyors, wine lists from wine mer- 
chants, and various letters from decorators, band- 
masters, and providers of all sorts. 

It is better to go to a lot of different firms,” 
said Lady Tarbutt, you get more commish. I 
charge you nothing, my dear, except, of course, 
if you like to give me my frock for the dance ; but 
everything else is a matter of friendship and com- 
mish. And then afterwards, I will write you up 
in some of the mags., and describe the dresses and 
their makers, and that will bring me a little bit 
too.” (And this was one of that heavenly body 
called Society,” who actually despised tubes.) 

Christina agreed to every item, save that of 
electric lighting. I want Mr. M^Crae to see 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 257 


this ball,’’ she said, indeed, I insist upon his 
seeing it; and I do not see how else I am to get 
him inside the doors. I should like to have every- 
thing done as magnificently as possible. And,” 
she added mysteriously, I have many reasons 
for wishing it.” 

To say that Christina M^N^ab was complacent 
upon the night of her ball would be woefully to 
misstate the case. Christina was flushed, radiant, 
triumphant! She stood at the head of her stair- 
case, clothed in one of those gowns of lily white- 
ness, which became her so well, and with a great 
shower bouquet of lilies of the valley in her hand. 
Her face was full of pleasure touched with grav- 
ity, which is so unusual a combination, and forms 
so happy an expression. Christina’s smiles were 
rare but beautiful. With most of her guests 
she merely shook hands gravely, and answered 
their pretty compliments with that touch of seri- 
ousness in her low voice which every one found 
so charming. All were busy using gushing phrases 
about the decorations, the floor, the lights. Chris- 
tina believed, with all her native sincerity, that 
those who admired must find things admirable, 
and her pretty acceptance of compliments — It is 
very kind of you to say so ” — was almost a reproof 
to those whose compliments meant nothing at all. 
A constant stream of people ascended the broad 
staircase, whose walls were entirely draped with 
some purest white soft Indian material, and looped 
up at intervals with loose bunches of long-stemmed 


258 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


English roses. The crush in the hall downstairs 
was as satisfactory as it could possibly be. It 
atoned for a lady’s annoyance at finding her dress 
crushed and trodden upon, to realise that she had 
come to the right sort of party, where everybody 
was to be seen, and everything was well done. 

Very smart and very young men with the im- 
pertinence of their kind approved of Christina’s 
arrangements with a patronising air, and brainless 
boys whom Christina’s shrewdness would have ex- 
posed in five minutes remarked that as a matter 
of strong necessity they would be obliged to make 
a bid for the M^^N’ab! ” Every profession in Eng- 
land was so full at present and the Colonies were 
beastly. There was really nothing for a poor 
fellow to do but to marry some woman who would 
keep him decently and respectably. Certainly all 
that section of Society whom Lady Tarbutt called 
the right people ” had come to the dance in 
Grosvenor Square. Lady Tarbutt said to herself 
that the whole thing was one of the smartest, and 
the most successful affair she had ever managed. 
The only man in England who could lead a cotillon 
to perfection had placed his services at Miss 
M^l^ab’s disposal. Do not give handsome 
presents,” Lady Tarbutt had commanded, it is 
so like beer! ” so the presents were tasteful, but 
not expensive.) 

The band in a flower-garlanded recess of the 
ball-room gave forth sweet music; discarded chap- 
erons no longer occupied their much-grudged 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 259 


benches round the walls of the room; and only 
a few very young girls, who are, of course, impos- 
sible people at a modern ball — found themselves 
without partners. That the dancing was merely 
a romp need not, of course, be denied; but it was 
an enjoyable romp, and the older the ladies were 
who participated in it the livelier seemed their 
energy, and the greater their enjoyment. Matrons 
who played hockey during the week, hiked, and 
rode to hounds, could not be expected to take 
their pleasures quietly, and they danced with tire- 
less energy the whole of the evening. 

All our old friends were at the ball. Judith 
Campbell with Captain Stonor — her latest and 
most impecunious young man — looked radiant. 
Lilah Anstruther, insufferably lady-like, but sweet 
and charming all the time, was surrounded by part- 
ners to whom her quiet good manners were always 
attractive. Mr. Drummond was in a state of en- 
joyment bordering upon frenzy, and Anne — chap- 
eroning Lady Muriel Stonor, whose sister was 
unable to come — tried to arrange partners for 
every wall-flower. Alice Maynard, now a bride, 
looked very blushing and girlish in a simple white 
frock. She unbent with matronly condescension 
to young men, with whom formerly Alice said 
it was necessary to be so careful,” and made 
coy advances towards them under the protecting 
shelter of her husband’s wing. Alice enjoyed 
being addressed by old acquaintances, who had 
not heard of her marriage, as Miss Maynard,” 


260 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


and she corrected their mistake with a delighted 
smile, saying Mrs. West, now, please! And 
then followed explanations and congratulations 
entirely after Alice’s heart. Bunkins had now 
fallen hopelessly in love with Christina, and bit- 
terly regretted his premature courtship of the 
girl : If I had only not been such a blundering, 
bumptious ass,” he used to say sadly, I might 
really have had a chance.” Mr. Venables was 
deep in a love affair with the elder Miss Lumley; 
and Lord Hardcastle was at the ball, and Miss 
Greville too. 

Miss Greville was a distinct personality. She 
was twenty-eight years of age, dark and beautiful. 
She had come to the ball very late, knowing, with 
that sort of magnificent insolence that suited her 
so admirably, that when she appeared every man 
in the room would do his best to obtain the pleasure 
of dancing with her, and every woman would say. 
Miss Greville has come ! ” She sailed through 
a few dances in her superb way, and was now pre- 
paring to sail out again. Lord Hardcastle helped 
her on with her cloak — a magnificent cloak of 
white satin, stiff with embroidery, and lined with 
sable — and as with reverent touch he put the costly 
mantle upon her shoulders, and they stood to- 
gether in the ante-room, he said courteously, in 
his high-bred voice, I must say good-bye, Bea- 
trice, I shall not see you again for a time.” He 
spoke in his level pleasant tones, and Miss Greville 
looked sharply at him, and said, speaking with 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 261 


* 

a cold disdain, Has the heiress refused you, 
Barny? ’’ 

“ Ho,’^ said Lord Hardcastle, I have not 
asked her to marry me, as you know.” 

“ Well, good-bye. Is it to be bear-shooting 
this time, or lion-hunting? ” 

Barny laughed. “ It is a polar expedition 
this time,” he said lightly; “I do not find that 
bear-shooting and lion-hunting do me much good.” 

“ What sort of good? ” asked Beatrice. 

“ They don’t cure me of loving you,” said 
Barny simply. 

“ So now it is to be frozen out of you,” laughed 
Beatrice. She was so tall that her face was on a 
level with her lover’s, and the nearness of it, the 
brilliance and superbness of it were intoxicating, 
and it made a man feel light-headed for a moment, 
and Lord Hardcastle’s cheeks suddenly flamed. 

“ Poor old Barny ! ” said Beatrice. 

“ So, good-bye,” said Barnabas. 

“ Good-bye ! ” 

The lights flared overhead, and the music 
sounded riotously from the ball-room above. 
There was no one in the ante-room but these two 
— the tall woman, with her shimmering ivory 
satin cloak falling about her, and the man with 
the haggard face. 

“ Your carriage is at the door, ma’am,” said 
a footman. 

And they went out together down the strip 
of carpet and. between the lines of poorly-clad 


262 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

folk who had come to hang about the pavement 
and see the ladies in their brave dresses go by. 
He put her into her carriage without another 
word, and shut the door, and Beatrice drove away. 

God help me ! muttered Barnabas. Still the 
dancers danced indefatigably, and the fiddles 
scraped and twanged, and couples went to supper 
in pairs, and sat out in recesses, and talked very 
loud because every one else was talking and they 
had to be heard above the din. And Lord Hard- 
castle watched it all, and heard it all, like a man 
in a dream. 

Christina’s duty of shaking hands with arriv- 
ing guests was now over, and she had accepted 
some invitations to dance, when Judith, fiying 
downstairs alone, caught her and drew her aside. 

I am the happiest girl in the world,” she whis- 
pered. “ Do kiss me and tell me you adore me. 
Every one must adore me to-night because Thomas 
does. He proposed to me this evening, and we 
are going to be married directly.” 

Christina had heard something of the affair, 
and exclaimed, Has he been through the Bank- 
ruptcy Court?” 

Ho,” cried Judith, delighted, but his uncle 
says that he will never, never pay his debts again. 
He has not a penny besides his pay, and I have 
only a hundred and fifty pounds a year of my 
own; and we are going to live in lodgings at 
Portsmouth and be happy for ever and ever, 
Amen.” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 263 


Christina gave her hearty congratulations, and 
then Judith, overflowing with good-nature, linked 
her arm in Christina’s with a happy girlish con- 
fidence, and enquired, Has the duke proposed 
to you yet? Please don’t mind my asking, but 
I want every one to be as happy as I am, and of 
course one can see that he adores you.” 

Christina looked pleased. He has not actu- 
ally declared himself yet,” she said, but I believe 
he will do so very soon. I think he was inter- 
rupted one evening on the river when he meant 
to say more.” 

Try that little recess on the staircase,” whis- 
pered Judith, laughing; no one seems to have 
found it out. Thomas and I were there for an 
hour, and it was heavenly! ” 

At this moment the duke came out of the ball- 
room in an eager search for his partner. His face 
wore its usual healthy appearance and delighted 
smile ; and, boy that he was, he entreated Christina 
to come at once and not lose a bar of Santiago ” 1 
If you please,” said Christina, I should 
prefer to go and sit in the little recess on the 
staircase.” 

Judith, brimful of happiness, whispered in her 
ear as she passed, Best congratulations I There 
now, I have been the first to wish you happiness.” 

And Christina and the duke passed onwards 
upstairs. Christina told His Grace the happy 
news concerning her girl friend and Captain 
Stonor. 


264 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

You don’t say so! ” cried the young fellow, 
delighted. That two young people were going to 
be married was in itself an entirely delightful and 
happy state of things, whether they Were going 
to live in Portsmouth or on the Gold Coast of 
South Africa. That’s a splendid piece of news,” 
he said. Fancy, old Tom Stonor, Muriel’s 
brother, going to be married! Well, I only wish 
I had half his luck; it would make me very happy, 
I know.” 

And then Christina answered in suitable terms. 
With modesty, but also with warmth, she told His 
Grace that she was not surprised at receiving his 
declaration, because she had expected it for some 
time; that she would be pleased to bestow upon 
him this luck which he had declared would make 
him happy, and having sat for some ten minutes 
more by the side of a perfectly speechless and 
horror-stricken young man she remarked that she 
must now return to the ball-room and look after 
her guests. And the Duke of Southwark, a mod- 
erate and abstemious young man by nature, found 
his way to the supper-room and asked Christina’s 
butler for a very strong brandy and soda. 

J udith Campbell raised her eyebrows, and sent 
a glance of interrogation across the whole length 
of the ball-room when Christina entered the door- 
way; and having received one single comprehensive 
nod of assent, the news of Miss M^Hab’s engage- 
ment soon spread through the ball-room. 

Have you heard about it?” Judith cried, 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 265 


dancing np to Anne Drummond, and whirling 
away from her partner’s arm for a moment, to 
impart the happy news to her friend, who stood 
with Muriel Stonor by her side. 

Yes, indeed, I have,” replied Anne, smiling. 

Thomas was not able to keep his happy secret 
very long, and told it to Muriel, who has just 
been telling it to me.” 

Thomas’s secret! ” cried Judith, with a happy 
laugh. Why, that stale old secret,” giving a 
laughing glance at Captain Stonor, is quite 
eclipsed by Christina’s engagement.” 

Christina — Christina engaged? who ” 

Quite instinctively she drew a little nearer Muriel 
Stonor, and checked her desire to put her hand 
round the little creature’s waist. 

She is engaged to Tim,” said Muriel in a 
sharp, quick, low voice ; please don’t tell us 
about it. You really need not, Judith.” 

And Judith, too happy to notice anything at 
all, floated away on her partner’s arm again. 

You are not going to faint?” said Anne 
quickly. Shall I take you out on to the balcony? 
Muriel dear, please keep up.” 

I am going to keep up,” said Muriel, in a 
steady voice, although the poor little face was 
very white. I am very glad that Tim is going 
to marry Miss M^Nab; I advised him to do so. 
Still, still ” — the under lip trembled — “ I think I 
should like to go home now, if you don’t mind. 
O Anne, why are people looking at me so? ” 


266 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


You are looking a little white,” said Anne. 

Come to the dressing-room and I will find 
Dickie, and we shall take you home.” 

Mr. Drummond had not ceased dancing for 
five minutes since he entered the ball-room, and 
he was now enjoying a galop. I cannot go 
home yet, Anne; really I can’t,” he exclaimed 
on getting his wife’s summons. He was just 
like a schoolboy begging for a little longer 
holiday. 

But Anne said quickly, Please come and get 
us into the carriage, Dickie; I must take Muriel 
home. Something so dreadful has happened. 
Tim has proposed to Christina M^Hab, and she 
has accepted him ! ” 

Well, come now,” said Dickie; really 
think that is the best bit of news I have heard 
for a long time. Both as nice as they can be. 
Tim, a pauper; Christina, an heiress — it seems to 
me so extremely suitable all round. As for that 
affair with Muriel, you know it never really was 
an engagement, and if it had been, it never could 

have been a marriage. So ” 

I think she is heart-broken,” said Anne. 

^^Heart-broken!” quoth Dickie: oh, what 
nonsense! I mean, my dear Anne, to be heart- 
broken about Tim. By George, I am very sorry 
to hear it! Perhaps we ought never to have had 
him to stay at Popples. I believe that was all my 
fault — at least, if it wasn’t my fault, it was the 
first time that I have not been the cause of a 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 267 


disaster of this sort happening. It may kill that 
poor child, and then we sha’nH have another happy 
moment so long as we both live. I feel like a 
murderer. Let’s find Miss M^Nab and say good- 
night, and then take that unfortunate little girl 
home ; and to-morrow we might call and ask Chris- 
tina to break it off with Tim.” He began to 
bustle about looking for his hostess, and muttering 
in a perfectly audible whisper, If anything hap- 
pens, her death will lie at our door. Perhaps I 
might get a word with Miss M^^N^ab to-night, and 
entreat her to let this unhappy young man off his 
engagement. But then, Christina might be just 
as unhappy as Muriel, and what should we do then? 
If she marries, our only paying guest is gone, and 
the pigsties not paid for yet. But I will not think 
of myself or my own troubles, during a tragedy 
of this sort. If the pigsties have to be pulled 
down, and sold brick by brick, I cannot help it. 
Perhaps she will give us a quarter’s salary in lieu 
of notice, as the tradespeople say; but then, of 
course, I couldn’t take it.” He almost ran against 
Christina, while still muttering and pursuing his 
distracted search. I must go,” he said solemnly; 
this has been a dreadful evening.” 

Dickie’s remarks were so often enigmatical 
that Christina did not notice the unusualness of 
his mode of thanking her for an evening’s enter- 
tainment. She begged him not to go yet, and 
remarked that the cotillon was just about to 
begin. 


18 


268 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


I am afraid my pram has come for me/’ said 
Dickie solemnly; I am much afraid my pram 
has come for me.” 

Your pram surely might wait for a little bit/’ 
said Christina’s partner to him. 

My pram/’ began Dickie again, for the third 
time — then clutching his hair with both his hands 
he ran downstairs. 

Dickie is madder than ever,” said Christina’s 
partner. 

The Drummonds and Lady Muriel drove home 
together to the Dundases’ house where they were 
all staying; and Dickie’s form of consolation to 
the little girl, who like a broken flower drooped 
in the corner of the big carriage, was to make 
repeated, indeed incessant demands as to her state 
of comfort. 

Sure you are not cold; quite sure? l^ot 
hungry? Did you have some supper? I must 
say the supper was excellent, in spite of Christina’s 
infamous behaviour. I must say I like the girl 
immensely; and, if the whole thing was to happen 
over again, I really do not see that we could 
improve upon it: still, it is all very disastrous 
and terrible! Quite sure you like the window 
down? Really not cold? ” 

The fact that neither of the ladies encouraged 
his conversation did not prevent Mr. Drummond 
from babbling on in this fashion till they reached 
the door of the Dundases’ house, when, with almost 
pathetic solicitude, he lifted the half-fainting 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 269 


Muriel bodily from the carriage, and carried her 
straight up to her bedroom. 

The cotillon was kept on till four o’clock in 
the morning, and various figures, graceful or 
childish, were performed with enjoyment and skill 
by the dancers. Perhaps no one went through 
the figures more gracefully than Lord Hardcastle, 
and no one noticed that he was graver than usual. 

The Duke of Southwark said good-night ” to 
Christina before the final dance began, and walked 
home with his heart as heavy as lead, and his eyes 
seeing nothing but the white face of Muriel Stonor. 

I suppose it will kill her,” he was saying to him- 
self, with the over-despondency of the young, and 
I wish it would kill me too! Is there no getting 
out of it? Half the people in the room to-night 
congratulated me. I am glad the Drummonds 
took her home; my sister will look after her. Of 
course, she knew; and I do not know how the rest 
of the world never guessed. Muriel is just out. 
I have no doubt they told each other in their 
wooden-headed way that a schoolroom flirtation 
never counts. . Schoolroom flirtation indeed! I 
have cared for her ever since she was a little girl 
in white frocks in the nursery.” The servant who 
admitted him asked him kindly if he wouldn’t 
have nothing?” and Tim replied, Ho, no; my 
good fellow, don’t bother,” speaking almost for the 
first time in his life without the sound of a laugh 
in his voice, or the look of a smile on his face. 

And so Christina’s ball ended. The last supper 


270 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


was eaten, and the last valse was danced. The 
sleepy cabmen who had waited all night in the 
square, and had watched the night die and the 
day dawn to the sound of the fiddle and the beat 
of dancing feet, now got down stiffly from their 
boxes and removed the nose-bags from their horses^ 
heads ready for the summoning whistle from the 
lacqueys at the door. 

Ladies in satin and tulle tripped down the strip 
of carpet under the awning, with the clean early- 
morning sunshine blazing down upon them, and 
young men in light overcoats lit up cigarettes and 
strolled home. The musicians with their fiddle- 
cases under their arms drank their last glass of 
champagne, and a footman banging a carriage-door 
said, “ Well, I suppose that is the last,” and rolled 
up the strip of carpet on the doorstep. The elec- 
tric lights in the balcony at which the daylight 
mocked were switched off, and a tall young man 
with tumbled yellow curls, having carefully ma- 
nipulated wires, sent his workmen home and came 
into the empty ball-room where candles still 
flamed in their sockets, and the sun, strong and 
bright, stole in through the curtained windows. 

To him a very tired girl, with a light of 
triumph in her eyes, came and said, Good-night, 
Colin, I suppose you have heard the news? ” 

Yes,” said Colin, and I do not think I was 
ever so proud of you in all my life before.” 

I just hate you ! ” said Christina. 


CHAPTEE XVI 


The engagement of the young Duke of South- 
wark to Miss M^Xab was the topic of conversation 
during the rest of the London season, so that 
people meeting each other at parties or in the 
Eow would say — knowing the news already to be 
generally known — I suppose you have heard 
about Tim? ’’ to which the other would reply 
“Yes’’; and then proceed to state Christina’s 
income, and in a secondary sort of way to ex- 
patiate upon her beauty. The subject was almost 
as severely thrashed out as the matter of bulbs 
had been in the country. Persons who felt a little 
insecure about receiving an invitation to the wed- 
ding of the season — which was to take place 
towards the end of July — began to send hand- 
some presents to the bride-elect, and cordial con- 
gratulations. And those whose invitations were 
a certainty showered inexpensive tokens of their 
esteem upon “ dear Christina.” Xo one noticed 
that Lady Muriel Stonor had not appeared at any 
of the parties that took place in June, and no one 
missed her. She was so young, had been out such 
a little while that she had hardly individualised 
in the London world, and her very tiny stature 

271 


272 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

made her as little remarkable as her own gentle 
nature could desire. Perhaps only Anne Drum- 
mond knew how the poor child’s pillow was wet 
with tears at night, and how the little fragile 
figure shook with sobs when Muriel fancied her- 
self alone. Anne was infinitely distressed, but 
said nothing. Dickie’s impetuosity might have 
led him to do something that was rash and im- 
pulsive; and Muriel’s own wish was a prayerful 
entreaty that Anne should be nice ” to her 
brother, and applaud his engagement to Miss 
M^^N'ab. Only once, as they sat in the Park one 
summer evening in the cool refreshing hour before 
dinner, did the young people meet each other and 
have a few words together. Then Anne, discreet 
chaperon though she was, hastily rose from her 
chair where she was sitting, saying, Keep my 
chair for a few minutes, Tim; I want to speak 
to some people over there,” and walked away 
across the lawn to some distant chairs. 

I must speak to you,” said Tim suddenly; 

I cannot go on like this. I don’t think it is a 
bit disloyal to Christina, for I never meant it, 
Muriel. It is all some awful mistake, and I can’t 
even think how it happened.” 

I am going away,” said Muriel, speaking in 
the inconsecutive way that lovers have when some 
tragedy has overthrown their happiness — not an- 
swering each other’s questions, nor daring to be 
explicit, but merely clinging to some remorseless 
fact such as I am going away,” or Papa won’t 
hear of it; we are much too poor.” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 273 


Don’t go,” said the duke, boyishly eager to 
avoid the pain of immediate separation. 

It is much wiser that I should. You know, 
dear,” — speaking with the wisdom of ages, which 
distinguishes the very young — it is the woman 
who must be wise on these occasions, and,” break- 
ing down a little, know I must go, Tim; I 
know I must go.” 

This is pretty ghastly,” said the duke, and 
his tone was so tragic that the absolute slanginess 
of his expression did not sound absurd. 

I did not mean to say anything,” said Muriel; 

I meant to go away without seeing you. Do 
you mind leaving me now, Tim? I don’t think 
I can bear this any longer.” 

He went obediently, and fetched his sister, 
saying he was obliged to go home. Muriel was 
keeping her chair for her; he was sorry he must 
run away, but he had an engagement. 

Such,” said the lady who was speaking to 
Anne, is the chronic condition of young men 
in the duke’s circumstances. I suppose your 
brother is always engaged now. Lady Anne? ” 

We don’t see very much of him, it is true,” 
said Anne sadly. It was so evident from her 
brother’s expression that her little attempt at 
forwarding an explanation with Muriel had not 
been successful. If only Christina loved him,” 
thought Anne, with as much impatience as her 
gentle nature could feel, I shouldn’t mind in the 
least — at least, I should only mind a little; but 


274 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

she does not care for him a bit, I know she 
doesn’t.’’ 

Muriel Stonor was taken to St. Moritz for 
nerves ” ; and the Drummonds returned to Pop- 
ples, where, at Whitsuntide, Miss M^Nab followed 
them. Christina grudged even a day away from 
London, but all her friends told her that London 
was impossible at Whitsuntide, and with the herd- 
ing instinct which applies even to the higher 
animals, the world of town moved down into the 
country for a week, and Christina moved with 
them. The duke himself took her down to Pop- 
ples, which highly delighted her. 

Folk may say what they like about simple 
pleasures,” said Christina to herself, as the train 
bore her and her fiance through the flat English 
shire, the whole landscape a billowy softness of 
trees, and green flelds, with pleasant little villages 
here and there planted round some tiny village 
church — folk may say what they like about 
simple pleasures, but until you are engaged to 
a duke you hardly know what pleasure is. And 
people who pretend to love only green flelds, and 
all that, cannot have experienced London in the 
season, with eighteen thousand a year.” 

The duke appeared in low spirits, but was 
courteous and pleasant, as he ever was. His de- 
pression, however, did not communicate itself to 
his companion, nor cause her even the least feeling 
of resentment. He’s new to it,” reflected Chris- 
tina, and he does not care about the situation 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 275 


much, as yet; but then, of course, you can’t have 
everything! After all, suitability is the great 
thing. He will have his comforts with me, which 
he has never had before; and I will have position, 
and that is a solid advantage, wrestle with it as 
you like! ” She did not bore her lover by shout- 
ing remarks to him. above the roar of the train, 
but sat demurely looking out at the flying beauty 
of the landscape, and enjoying every moment of 
the journey. 

At Hoeford Station there was a surprise in 
store for the young couple. Mrs. W eeks, wreathed 
in smiles and clad in her best dress, held a reluctant 
Miss Weeks by the hand, and dragging her for- 
ward induced her to present a large bouquet of 
common garden flowers, tied with white ribbon, 
to the future bride. The stolid child handed the 
bunch of stocks, sweet-williams, and Canterbury- 
bells to the astonished Christina, who nevertheless 
felt there was something a little regal in the pro- 
ceeding, and gravely thanked the little girl for 
her gift. 

Babbah bade me give it,” said Miss Weeks, 
who was suffering from what her mamma described 
as one of their summer colds.” 

Mrs. Weeks kissed Christina on both cheeks 
before she was well out of the carriage, and began 
a series of bright remarks which were distinctly 
audible all over the station. 

I always knew how it would be ! I said so 
from the first! Willie and I had a bet upon the 
subject.” 


276 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


We had no bet/’ interposed Mr. Weeks. 

‘‘You darling old stupid/’ said Mrs. Weeks, 
in a voice of annoyance, “ do not be so exact ! ” 

“ I must tell the truth,” responded Mr. W eeks, 
in a firm voice ; “ I owe it to my office, and to 
my cloth.” 

“ Is not he a dear old frump ! ” exclaimed Mrs. 
Weeks gaily; and she went down the platform 
with Christina, chatting all the time. 

“ I have such heaps to tell you that has hap- 
pened since you have been away! I don’t think 
we have ever had a more lively summer — garden- 
parties nearly every day ” 

“ Oh, Babbah ” 

“ — And the Flower Show, besides a very pleas- 
ant little gathering when we had the tombstones 
of the churchyard scraped, and put up straight.” 

She led the conversation in her voluble way 
till the carriage was reached, and Christina and 
the duke drove off, followed by the admiring eyes 
of the station-master and his staff, and the whole 
village. The duke touched his hat, and Christina 
bowed, with a heart swelled with pride. 

Poplar’s Court looked beautiful in the after- 
noon sunshine. It is extraordinary the dignity 
of these old houses, surrounded by their private 
parks, and with a stone wall — either actually or 
metaphorically — between them and the outside 
world. They are some of the un-vulgar things 
that are left in England ; and when they have been 
sold to the rich, and to the vulgar, and when 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 277 


railways have screamed close to the house, and 
rights of way have been established on every 
side, we shall lose, not only some of the best and 
sincerest pleasures of living, but we shall lose also 
much of the dignity and the beauty of life. The 
lodge-keeper bobbed to Christina, taking a fresh 
look at her as the affianced of the young duke, 
and so it had been on every side. In London, it 
had been the fashion to turn round and stare at 
Miss M^Hab; no one seemed to think it rude, and 
even in Church a whisper had been used to go 
about, Do you see that pretty girl with red hair? 
She is the Duke of Southwark’s fianceel ” 

There was no house-party at Popples. Indeed, 
Judith Campbell was the only guest. Even Chris- 
tina was a little tired after her many gaieties, and 
when Anne had asked her if there were any friends 
whom she would like to meet at Whitsuntide, she 
had replied in the negative. Surely, when a duke 
is secured, a girl may rest! 

Anne came smiling to the doorway to greet 
Christina. She could never be anything but 
courteous and gracious to every one — especially 
to the girl who had lived with them all so amiably, 
who had been so little exacting as a guest, and 
who now was to be her brother’s wife. Mr. Drum- 
mond accepted the inevitable with his usual optim- 
ism, and had decided that everything was for the 
best, as it usually was in this best of all possible 
worlds, and the Whitsuntide visit to Popples began 
most pleasantly. Judith Campbell was in more 


278 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


than usually radiant spirits, having at last gained 
her father’s consent to her marriage. 

How did you manage it? ” asked Anne laugh- 
ing. I was afraid your father would be very 
difficult to manage! ” She turned to Dickie, and 
said softly, Do you remember the troubles we 
went through before we were allowed to marry! ” 

Ah, that was because you are not modern,” 
said Judith. 

I am afraid I was born a little old-fashioned,” 
replied Anne. Please tell us how papas ought 
to be managed.” 

Oh, father was as obdurate as could be, at 
first,” said Judith, so I did not press the matter 
in the least, but waited with wily craft for a fair 
opportunity, and then asked him to dine with me 
at my club. Papa, you know, who is old-fash- 
ioned — or thinks he is, which comes to the same 
thing — thought all along that I was going to be 
tearful, like girls in books, or even abusive — I 
really think, sometimes, that father thought I was 
going to be abusive — but I was perfectly cheerful 
and polite, which was a pleasant surprise to him 
every day. Well, then, one night mamma was 
going to a meeting, and wanted papa to go with 
her. I saw his look of anguish, dutifully veiled 
for mamma’s sake, and said, ^ I did hope, papa, 
that you might have been able to dine with me 
at my club to-night.’ He said, ^ I should like 
it of all things, if your mamma does not mind.’ 
So then we had a very nice little dinner, and some 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 279 


really excellent champagne, and after dinner we 
smoked cigarettes. You know what a feeling of 
equality that gives, and how much men object to 
it for this very reason; however, papa could not 
very well say anything when I was his hostess, and 
really we had a very cosy little time. And at 
last I said with a big, a most manly, a most sensible 
puff of my cigarette, ^ You know, dear papa, that 
I mean to marry Thomas Stonor.’ And he said, 
‘ I am perfectly aware of that fact.’ I remarked, 
‘ He is a dear boy.’ And papa said, ^ He is a 
monstrous bad match.’ Of course papa expected 
me to be furious, but all I said was, ^ He is, indeed, 
dear papa.’ So that rather cut the ground from 
under his feet, and of course he relented directly. 
Coffee arrived at this critical moment, and papa 
looked so mellow and delightful, and remarked, 
^ You will make a charming wife, my dear.’ I 
said, ^ Yes, I think I shall’; and we went on to 
the theatre together afterwards, with everything 
settled happily, and without any fuss. I am so 
glad I am a modern girl! ” 

There was a good deal of laughter over Judith’s 
nonsense, and the evening passed so pleasantly 
that hardly any one noticed the duke’s low state 
of mind. He was punctilious in the discharge of 
every courtesy towards Christina, and waited upon 
her at every hour of the day to know if she would 
like to walk or drive, or see this or that — a most 
exemplary fiance indeed! But when Judith left 
to pay another visit, the days at Popples were a 


280 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M'NAB 


little tedious, not to say gloomy; and only Anne 
Drummond’s unvarying sweetness and unselfish- 
ness, and her unflagging efforts to make every- 
thing pleasant, availed to prevent the time feeling 
unaccountably long. Fortunately, Anne’s spirits 
were never of an effervescent sort. The mild 
radiance that shone from her kind face burned 
with a steady light, and was not accustomed either 
to flare up suddenly, or to go out altogether. She 
was one of those delightful people whose humour 
— as well as whose every action — was based upon 
a real desire to do the right thing. Anne Drum- 
mond may have made some mistakes sometimes, 
but her motive was always good. It is doubtful 
whether she desired anything in life but to love, 
and in her own simple phraseology, to be good.” 

The difference between Anne and me,” Dick 
used to say in his most sapient manner, is this : 
I always do everything from a wrong principle, 
because 1 think it is the only way to make disa- 
greeable things tolerable. How Anne always does 
them from a right principle, and enjoys disagree- 
able things for the very reason which would make 
me hate them.” 

It was a matter of daily indecision with her 
at present, whether she should say anything to 
Christina which would open her eyes to the fact 
that the duke was unhappy, not to say really 
broken-hearted. It seemed too late to interfere, 
and yet how sad that two lives should be spoilt, 
while a third surely — in spite of many advantages 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 281 


— could not altogether be happy. Her promise 
to Muriel forbade that she should disclose the 
secret of her love for Tim; but surely, in general 
terms, Anne might speak to Christina about the 
emptiness of a loveless match, and try and find 
out definitely whether she really loved her future 
husband or not, and thus allay her own fears and 
anxieties. Always the shyest of women, and the 
most backward in giving counsel. Lady Anne 
waited while the days passed without an oppor- 
tunity for speaking, excepting on the most ordinary 
topics, to her guest. How could she advise any 
one who, it must be said, never sought advice, nor 
seemed to need it? How even discourse upon 
serious matters, without seeming to preach? 
Words cost so much, and were so difficult of 
utterance ! 

One long hot day, when the fierceness of the 
sun had prevented any outdoor exercise, when the 
duke lay in the hammock in the breeze, and smoked 
many cigarettes, and only the unquenchable energy 
of Dick and Joan could withstand that torpor which 
such heat produces. Lady Anne and Christina, who 
had been indoors during the whole afternoon, came 
out and sat on the broad green terrace upon which 
the side-windows of the drawing-room opened, and 
had tea brought to them within the shadow of the 
house. The lawn was surrounded by the low dark 
stone wall of the moat, upon whose waters the 
lower branches of fir-trees on the opposite side 
rested with a quiet content, and across which two 


282 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


bright-hued kingfishers flashed backwards and for- 
wards in the sun. Christina seated herself in a 
low basket-chair, with a big white satin cushion 
behind her head; the blush-rose colour of her cheek 
looked warm against the creamy-white of the pil- 
low, and the beautiful copper-coloured hair with 
its burnished waves formed a halo round her head. 
A big diamond ring flashed upon her finger, and 
the small white hand lay cool and idle upon the 
grey linen of Christina’s lap. The moment was 
one of calm contentment and enjoyment. The 
duke — called from his hammock and his cigarettes , 
— waited upon her with every attention that the 
tea-table demanded; and Mr. Drummond’s chatter 
was a pleasant accompaniment to the homely clink- 
ing of the tea-cups. 

Wake up! wake up!” cried Dickie, wake 
up, Tim ! Tim is now sleeping the sleep of reple- 
tion, and I insist upon his getting up, and taking 
a walk before dinner-time.” 

Your energy is appalling,” said Tim, getting 
up and stretching himself lazily : Are you to be 
allowed to sleep, Christina, or will you come 
with us?” 

Christina thought it was pleasanter to sit upon 
the shady lawn, and declined the proffered exer- 
cise. But presently she and Anne, having seen 
the gentlemen depart across the moat bridge, 
strolled down the lime-walk together. The trees 
met far above them, like the lofty arches of a 
great cathedral; and a lake shimmered at the end 
of the stately walk. 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M^NAB 283 


How beautiful such evenings as these are ! 
said Anne; I hope you are beginning to love 
the country, Christina — at least in summer time.” 

I always said,” replied Christina, the coun- 
try was very well in its own place, and at the 
right time.” 

This is my favourite time of all the day,” 
went on the gentle voice, as Anne passed slowly 
down the lime-walk, with the verdant arches over- 
head, it always seems to me that God still walks 
in a garden in the cool of the day, the place seems 
so full of Him, and of beauty, at this hour.” 

Christina was silent. She considered Anne’s 
thought a beautiful one, but a little oppressive. 
There are times when a worldly young woman 
does not particularly desire to feel constantly in 
the presence of her Creator. 

We are so happy here, Dickie and I and 
Joan,” said Anne, that I want everybody to be 
as happy as we are. You know, Christina, I feel 
as though I had never said half enough in the 
way of congratulation; but you know, don’t you, 
dear, how much I wish you and Tim every hap- 
piness.” 

am sure you do,” said Christina impulsively, 
you have always been sweet to me.” 

The kindly expression made Anne flush 
slightly, but gave her courage to proceed: Ju- 
dith says I am a very old-fashioned person,” she 
said, and I suppose I am ; but to me it seems 
that love is everything — it makes all one’s happi- 
19 


284 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


ness. And so I think that whatever happens, if 
married people love each other, nothing can ever 
he really very disturbing or very sad.” 

Do you think love is everything?” said 
Christina. 

Indeed, I do,” said Anne warmly, but then, 
as I told you, I am very old-fashioned. I think 
it is even better to love as John Churchill did 
than not to love at all.” 

It has made a very unhappy life for Mr. 
Churchill,” said Christina conclusively. 

“We always think,” said Anne, “ although 
we never talk about it, that he still loves Miss 
Yillars, and always will love her; so, though his 
whole career seemed to end in disaster, he never 
sacrificed his ideals.” 

There was a tender influence over everything 
this evening, a softening atmosphere — a feeling in 
the air like Sunday evening, when the lights are 
low, and the children are singing hymns. Old 
memories crowd thickly upon us then, and for- 
gotten aspirations rise like ghosts and flit before 
us — old opportunities, old loves, thoughts of long 
ago crowd upon us, and according as we have lived, 
so do we love this hour, or so do we resent it. 
Christina resented it; and struggled against the in- 
fluence of the cathedral-like lime-walk and Anne^s 
dear goodness. She was relieved when she saw 
Tim and Dick return from their walk. She cried 
a little when she had gone to bed at night, and 
wished that she were back in London again. 


CHAPTEK XVII 

The next day, Dick was paying an afternoon 
visit to John Churchiirs room, and said to him. 
That old fool. Brown, seems to be coming to 
see you pretty often just now, ‘John?’’ 

Yes,’’ replied John, smiling, “ and he brought 
another old fool to see me to-day, Dickie.” 

^^Why should he do that,” said Mr. Drum- 
mond resentfully, why does he keep on poking 
his nose in here when he is not asked? You, are as 
well as ever you were in your life, John, since you- 
had that nasty spill, so why should he keep bother- 
ing round? He is hard up, I suppose. There is 
nothing to do down here, except doctor the Weeks’ 
colds, so he is trying to fleece you. Brute! ” 

John only smiled again; and Dick went on 
wrathfully: — 

They all want to make you out an invalid, 
just because the hot weather has tried you a bit, 
as if every one did not feel rather a rag in such 
blazing heat as this! Who was the other old 
blighter who came to see you to-day? ” 

He was Dr. ,” said John. 

A London swell? ” 


285 


286 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M^AB 


Yes/’ 

“Well, I don’t see the nse of it,” burst out 
Dickie, “ why, man, they will persuade you that 
you are a chronic invalid, next! What is all this 
nonsense about your being in such bad health ? It 
was colder certainly last winter than we often 
have it, and it is certainly hotter this summer, 
but I really don’t see ” 

John was still smiling a little, and he crossed 
the room, and put his arm round his friend’s 
shoulder, and said, “ Dickie, I have had notice to 
quit.” 

“ I^ot quit this house! ” exclaimed Dick, “ not 
after all these years! Well, what do yoii mean? 
Oh, John — John, old chap, you can’t mean that I ” 

“ Do you think you would mind telling 
Anne?” said John Churchill — “please do not 
mind so much, Dickie ! ” for Dick Drummond was 
sobbing like a child. 

The kingfishers flashed across the moat, and 
J oan’s voice could be heard shouting happily from 
the garden, and the afternoon’s sunshine was turn- 
ing everything to gold — it seemed very hard to 
Dick that his old friend should have to leave all 
this: “I don’t believe it,” he began again, but 
John checked him. 

“ I have a week or two still,” he said. “ Do 
you mind saying nothing about me till the wed- 
ding is over?” 

He limped down to the hall the following 
morning to bid the parting guests “ Good-bye,” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 287 


teasing Christina a little with his quiet, sad hu- 
mour, and then suddenly becoming grave, and 
wishing her earnestly every possible blessing. 

The tears of which Christina was always so 
heartily ashamed, and which few people had ever 
seen, were very near her eyes that morning. 
The visit to Popples had been a little depressing, 
she thought, and yet what more did she want? 
Tim had been charming, and Anne kind and 
loving, but perhaps they had a more serious way 
of booking at things than London people had; 
and it would be pleasant to get back to the rush 
and whirl of the season again. Every one had 
something kind to say to her, as she bade them 
Good-bye.’^ Anne kissed her fondly, saying, 
“Till the great day, Christina dearl ’’ Dickie 
said, “You will never know what a good, thing 
matrimony is until you are in trouble,” which 
seemed an inexplicable remark. And Joan hung 
about her neck, kissing her, and making shrewd 
little remarks composed of gushing childish 
phrases and masculine slang. 

Christina, standing at the hall door with the 
carriage waiting for her, said, “ I have forgotten 
something”; and ran up to John Churchiirs 
room. “ Mr. Churchill,” she cried, “ I cannot 
say it, but I want you to thank them all for 
being so kind to me; and you will get well quick- 
ly, wonT you, and come to my wedding? ” 

“ I shall get well very quickly,” said John, 
smiling, and Christina ran downstairs again. 


288 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


She returned to London where business of all 
sorts awaited her, from the ordering of the trous- 
seau to the disposition of her affairs, and the ar- 
ranging of the wedding-party. As the time drew 
near for the marriage Colin was busy arranging 
settlements. The commercial spirit was strong in 
Colin, and no stern guardian, no grasping father 
was ever more particular than this young man 
was to tie up Christina’s money securely for 
her. “ Duke, or no duke,” he remarked, I am 
going to see that your money is safe.” And he 
took laudable pains to ensure that this should be 
so. Trustees had to be found, and he and Lord 
Hardcastle consented to act in this capacity. Six 
o’clock in the evening, when Colin’s work was 
over, was the hour chosen for business confer- 
ences; and at six o’clock the two gentlemen were 
generally to be found in the big cool library of 
Christina’s house. One would sit on either side 
of the leather-covered table, while Christina — 
white-gowned and golden-haired — sat between 
them conducting her business with composure and 
admirable skill. The days were long and hot this 
fine weather, but in the dim library, at«the north 
side of the spacious house, it was always cool and 
pleasant. Colin would tie up documents in a very 
business-like way, and direct Christina’s signature; 
and Lord Hardcastle,*watching the two heads bent 
over some paper, was struck afresh each time by 
the beauty of both. Why had they not fallen in 
love with each other in the old Inmboro’ days? 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 289 


“ I am quite sure/’ he said to himself, had 
I been Christina I could not have resisted that 
good-looking young giant, nor could I, had I 
been Colin, have been proof against Christina’s 
beauty, if I had not known the only other woman 
in the world who is more beautiful! ” A sharp 
pain passed through him — a sudden darting pain 
such as an old wound sometimes gives when we 
least expect it; and Lord Hardcastle saw suddenly 
before him, not only his long lonely voyage to 
an ice-bound land, with only the memory of a 
woman to be with him under the stars of a frosty 
night, but that other and longer voyage which 
we call life, which appeared to him then so inter- 
minable, so cold, and so lonely. He pulled him- 
self together as tea was brought into the room, 
and said to Christina, “ You spoil us, you know. 
We come here — M^Crae and I, on the plea of 
doing work for you, instead of which we eat 
strawberries and cream, and waste your time.” 

I am afraid I waste your time,” said Chris- 
tina, “ you must be very busy, just now, and I 
fear this business intrudes upon your own occu- 
pations.” 

I am afraid I shall not be able to come 
again,” said Lord Hardcastle, for I really have 
got a good deal to do, but there is not much more 
to settle. Mr. M^Crae will get the other docu- 
ments from the lawyer to-morrow, or the next 
day, and he has promised to bring them on to me 
for my signature.” 


290 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

So Colin and Christina worked alone on the 
following day, and the next, and the one that 
followed that. 

]^ow this is the history of the first day: — 

You are quieter than you used to be,’’ said 
Colin to Christina, during a pause for tea and 
strawberries. 

It is more befitting a married lady,” said 
Christina gravely. 

Colin threw back his head and laughed in his 
delightful way. You are not married yet,” he 
said. 

I am just four weeks off it.” 

Is that all?” said Colin, “I have hardly 
reckoned that there was so little time left. Well, 
we ought to get on with this business: ” re-seating 
himself at the table. 

“ You don’t think I am too quiet? ” said Chris- 
tina. Tim himself was talking of it the other 
day, and said that he and I were a quiet couple.” 

You are not a bit too quiet,” said Colin 
kindly, indeed, I prefer it to what you used to 
be. There was whiles when I used to think you 
talked too much.” 

You were always one to find fault,” said 
Christina sharply; and a little angry sob came up 
into her voice, and prevented her saying much 
more that she wanted to say. 

“ Well, now, about these shares,” said Colin 
briskly, do you feel inclined to buy them at 
par?” And they talked of business until seven 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 291 


o’clock; that was the end of the first day. And 
that was the whole of its history. 

On the following afternoon, Christina said, 
“ Talk about being quiet, Colin, it is yourself that 
has been looking very white this long while back.” 

“ So they say,” said Colin, cheerfully, “ and 
I understand that it suits my cast of features.” 

Are you well enough? ” said Christina softly. 
There was at this time in her heart a curious 
spring of pity which she did not well know where 
to apply. Pity was not required for her happy 
fortunate self, nor, certainly, was it required for 
her happy and fortunate duke, but it was there 
all the same, and caused what she called a lump 
in her throat.” Perhaps it might be bestowed 
upon Colin. 

I am well enough,” replied Colin, with his 
usual cheerfulness, but I am sitting up late at 
nights now, working at that new lamp I am 
making.” 

“ It is going to be a great invention, isn’t it? ” 
said Christina. 

Yes,” said Colin simply, a good one, I 
think, and,” he added, when I have made my 
name and my fortune, I mean to ask you and the 
duke to a lot of grand parties.” 

Christina’s pity was evidently thrown away 
and not required, and the annoyance that this 
waste of good material engenders in even the best 
intentioned persons disturbed Miss M^Yab’s tem- 
per so considerably that she said with a wrathful 


292 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


flush, “ It is often a surprise to me, Colin M^Crae, 
that you who used to set up to be so fond of me, 
can seem really to enjoy my marrying another! ’’ 
It is often a surprise to myself,^’ said Colin. 

This was all the conversation that took place 
during the pause for tea and strawberries on the 
second day. 

There was one more day left. 

On the third day, there was so little business 
to transact that Colin and Christina thought they 
would not fash to work at all, but just sit and 
enjoy a quiet chat until Lord ITardcastle, whose 
signature was required, should find time to rush 
in as he promised to do, about seven o’clock. The 
heat was intolerable indoors, and they went out 
into the square, and sat under the sooty trees, 
while cabs and carriages, in a ceaseless stream, 
went round and round the square. Some chil- 
dren were playing ball on the almost turfless 
lawn; otherwise the garden was deserted. Chris- 
tina took off her big white hat, and laid it in her 
lap, and the mellow sun coming through the trees 
lit up her golden hair till, as Joan Drummond 
used to say, it looked like a lamp. There is a 
solitariness about any unoccupied space in Lon- 
don, surrounded as it must be by the stream of 
life which flows unceasingly so near to it and 
yet so far away, which can hardly be equalled in 
even the most desert place far removed from the 
dwellings of men. A barrel-organ with its mel- 
ancholy mechanical indifference, beat out a life- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 293 


less tune, and banged its rollicking “ I don’t 
care ” into the brain, with a very heartlessness 
of sound. 

Christina sat silent, looking down at the hat 
in her lap, and digging it all over with a long 
hat-pin. 

Perhaps it was because her marriage was only 
four weeks off that she was so thoughtful; or it 
may have been that amongst her crowd of new 
friends in London there was no one who really 
knew her like this old friend of long, long ago. 

Do you remember old Inmboro’ days? ” she 
said suddenly, following this inward train of 
thought, this square often reminds me of a bit 
in the Public Gardens.” 

Colin replied that he remembered the Inm- 
boro’ days very well, and that he thought he knew 
which spot in the gardens Christina must mean. 

They were very happy days,” she said. 

“ They were indeed,” said Colin heartily, 
though, doubtless (with sublime philosophy) if 
we were to remember them accurately, we should 
find that they had their ups and downs like any 
other days.” 

Christina remarked that perhaps this might be 
so, but that she could not at this moment remem- 
ber any disagreeables in connection with them. 

“ Your puir father, for instance,” helping her 
memory, “ was something of a tyrant.” 

Yes,” said Christina, “ but then he was away 
nearly all day.” 


294 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


You’ll mind tlie Saturday afternoons? ” said 
Colin. 

“ Yes/’ said Christina eagerly, ‘^you used gen- 
erally to bring me a bunch of flowers to wear 
when we went for walks together, and I used to 
put them into water at night and they lasted over 
Sunday.” 

“ I varied the thing by bringing sweeties some- 
times,” went on Colin, still in the reminiscent 
frame of mind. In winter time it was as often 
chocolate as flowers.” 

“ It was always something,” said Christina 
gently. 

“ Do you still skate, Christina? ” asked Colin, 
I believe those Saturday afternoons on the 
skating pond used to be the happiest time of all. 
You were a good skater then, and I don’t think 
I ever felt so proud as when I used to be flying 
round the pond with you, hand in hand.” 

Christina stopped pricking her hat with the 
long pin, and raising grey eyes to Colin’s face, 
said, You did care for me then, Colin? ” 

Oh, it was a boy and girl attachment,” said 
Colin cheerfully, but very pleasant Avhile it 
lasted.” 

Christina returned to the operations Avith the 
hat-pin with much thoughtfulness, and her eye- 
lids drooped again. 

Colin, following the movements of her hands, 
said presently, That is a very pretty bracelet 
you have got: it is a new one, isn’t it? ” 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 295 


Tim gave it to me/’ said Christina quickly. 

Let me see it.” 

She held out her hand, and Colin took it with 
as much or as little apparent emotion as an elderly 
doctor might show upon raising a fair wrist to 
feel a patient’s pulse. 

The stones are lovely,” he said; and I think 
they make your hands look whiter than ever. I 
must say, Christina, you always had the prettiest 
hand I ever saw.” 

Let go my hand,” said Christina. 

Why does it shake so? ” asked Colin. 

I don’t know. Colin, I wish you would not 
come here any more to see me.” 

What way? ” 

At least not till after I am married.” 

I am not coming then — at least, not till my 
patent is out, and I have made a success; so I may 
as well come now.” 

I’d rather you did not ; the business is almost 
concluded now, and ” 

Not if you make up your mind to those 
transfers,” said Colin quickly, I must come 
again about them.” 

“ It does not matter about the transfers,” said 
Christina. 

It matters to the extent of five thousand 
pounds.” 

“ I don’t mind,” said Christina. 

Then I’ll just say good-bye. You have the 
key of the gate, haven’t you? ” 


296 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


They wandered out of the square garden, and 
returned to the house and to the library to col- 
lect stray papers. Colin tied them up in a bun- 
dle, and said, You won’t forbid my coming to 
the wedding, I hope, for I have ordered a new 
suit of clothes for it? ” 

Come to the wedding if you like,” said Chris- 
tina. It won’t matter to me then, and it won’t 
cost you any distress of mind.” 

“ Woman,” said Colin, “ I mean to sit in a 
foremost pew, and weep like a pew-opener. A 
marriage is always rather a depressing thing,” he 
added cheerfully. And after this happy general- 
isation on the part of Mr. M^Crae, relative to 
weddings, there was so considerable a pause in 
the conversation that he glanced at Christina, 
who was standing with her back towards him, 
looking out of the window. 

He crossed the room, and put his arm round 
her shoulder, and kissed her. Don’t cry, Chris- 
tina,” he said. 

I’m not crying,” said Christina. 

I only thought,” he said, that you were 
vexed at my saying that weddings were de- 
pressing.” 

Oh, not at all.” 

Well, I’ll see you on the twenty-fifth.” The 
twenty-fifth was the wedding-day. 

Yes.” 

And I will negociate the transfers.” 

Deil take the transfers ! ” cried Christina, 


THE FOETUNE OF CHRISTINA M'NAB 297 

stamping her foot; and she swung round on her 
heel, and hastily left the room. 

And so the third day ended; and this is a 
faithful and exact record of all that occurred. 

Of course the lynx-eyed world of London saw 
that its favourite — its “dear boy,” Tim South- 
wark — was not happy; and what the eye of 
London sees the voice of London discusses. “ Poor 
Tim ” was pitied and envied in the same breath. 
Christina’s money made things suitable, but the 
dear duke was not a bit like himself. It is true 
his conduct towards his fiancee was exemplary. 
Tim’s good manners and his good feeling could 
always be relied upon, but the boy looked sud- 
denly older, and he had altogether ceased to 
laugh and talk at the same time in the way that 
had been so characteristic of him. London said 
there was a married woman in the case who was 
making it very unpleasant for Tim, and this well- 
worn, stale explanation of any difficulties that lie 
in the way of matrimony was accepted by the 
London world with its usual sapiency as being 
an established fact. Tim evidently must care 
for some one whom it was impossible to marry, 
and the fact that no one knew who that some 
one could be only made the matter more inter- 
esting. Muriel Stonor, drooping at distant St. 
Moritz, and with eyes grown terribly big and 
starlike, was not once connected in the world’s 
mind with the young Duke of Southwark. 


298 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

She was little known to society, having lived 
the very quietest life since the death of her 
parents, and it was really much more piquant 
to ascribe the duke’s ill looks to some mysterious 
married lady, name unknown. “ Of all depress- 
ing things,” said the world, there is really noth- 
ing so depressing, when one comes to think of it, 
as a thoroughly suitable engagement. It gives 
one nothing to talk about. It must be horribly 
dull for the two people most nearly concerned in 
it, and unless, indeed, a mysterious married lady 
can he introduced to give it a slight flavour of 
mystery, the whole thing is very stupid, very 
dull, and a little bourgeois.^'' Judith Campbell’s 
marriage was really a more interesting affair, for 
the young people could not fail to be in the work- 
house at the end of six months, and it was inter- 
esting to anticipate the troubles that lay before 
them, and to state with positive assurance the 
exact amount of the income which they would 
have to share between them. 

The season had been rather a dull one, and 
there had not been much to talk about. People 
had got tired of saying that the duke looked 
wretched, that the Stonors would undoubtedly 
be in the workhouse in six months’ time, and that 
Barny’s girl was as obdurate as ever, and had 
sent Barny to court death on a Polar expedition. 

People said that the chances were he would 
never come back, and that Miss Greville didn’t 
seem to care. It was really most disappointing 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 299 


to find that she did care, to hear — no one knew 
how it leaked out — that Barnabas had been sent 
for to say good-bye; that Barnabas had not been 
able to go because he was seriously ill; and that 
one day Miss Greville^s superb carriage, with the 
superb Miss Greville herself inside, was drawn 
up quite frankly and openly before Lord Hard- 
castle^s door, that a footman was told to enquire 
if his lordship would see Miss Greville, and that 
thereafter a tall and beautiful woman in her 
favourite black draperies swept upstairs and knelt 
at Lord Hardcastle’s couch, and said, Don’t go, 
Barny.” 

'No one knew how this story came to be told. 
There was an hospital nurse in attendance cer- 
tainly, but she was not in the room, and although 
Barny’s brother was staying in the house, he 
never said a word. But as Lord Hardcastle grew 
daily better, and Miss Greville’s visits continued 
— she being the most refined, particular, conven- 
tional woman in the whole of London — it was 
acknowledged everywhere that there must be 
something in it. 

“ After all,” wrote Colin to Christina, “ I do 
not believe I shall be able to be at the wedding, 
for the London Scottish are going to march down 
to Brighton about that time, and of course I must 
go with them. We are very busy drilling and 
marching just now. I think we may be passing 
your way on Saturday.” So Christina stayed at 
20 


300 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


home on Saturday, and looked out of the window 
the whole morning, and saw nothing but the usual 
cabs and carriages and the stream of foot-pas- 
sengers. In the afternoon, however, she was 
better rewarded, for she heard the shrill sound 
of the pipes, and presently the grey regiment, 
beloved of Highlanders, swung into the square. 
The sunshine beat down upon their bonneted 
heads and caught the glitter of the silver on 
their sporrans, as they danced gaily on the grey 
cloth of the kilts and swung to the swinging 
stride of the men. The sunshine marked out 
for special distinction a yellow-haired lad frae 
the north, tall and upright as the wand of the 
saugh that grows on the free hillside, with an 
air of joyous confidence about him, and with his 
bonnet cocked jauntily over his eyes. With 
their bonnets an’ feathers an’ a’, an’ a’,” skirled 
the pipes, and .the men stepped out bravely to 
the jaunting tune, wi^h the grey kilts swinging 
about their unfettered limbs. Christina, keek- 
ing ” from behind her drawing-room curtains, 
watched the regiment file past, and felt within 
her that glow of pride which the clans feel for 
each other when the pipes are playing and the 
kilts are swinging. 

“ He is a braw laddie, he is a braw laddie,” 
her heart cried out, while her tongue spoke again 
in the old soft accents of the North. ‘‘Not one 
of them is so tall as he is; not one of them has 
such yellow curls and blue eyes. I would like 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 301 


to see him at the head of a regiment, like M , 

telling the Highland lads that there were English- 
men looking down from the fort far above, and 
bidding the worn-out men remember that they 
must march up the hill like Scots.” 

Colin had told her one day how when M 

had thus appealed to them, the fever-stricken 
men who had been falling out one by one on 
the heavy march in the bed of a torrent, sniped 
at by a hidden foe, pulled themselves together; 
while a slip of a lad, a boy piper in the regi- 
ment, stepped out from the ranks, cocked his 
bonnet, and set the ribbons flying, and, putting 
his pipes under his oxter, played the regiment 
right into the fort of Jutogh. 

“ That is the way you would march, Colin,” 
said Christina exultingly, looking down from her 
window at the young man’s splendid form and 
his free swinging step. “ That’s the way you 
would lead your men.” 


CHAPTEK XYIII 


That evening Christina wrote to her /tance, 
and said — 

My Dear Tim, — Please come and see me 
to-morrow and take me for a drive; I think we 
ought to see more of each other, indeed it would 
please me very much if you could he with me 
every day. I want to see you, and no one else 
but you, till we are married. — Yours affection- 
ately, Christina M^Nab. 

“ P.S . — Please do not come on Saturday as 
I think the London Scottish will be passing here 
that day.’’ 

The duke came dutifully on the following 
afternoon. Christina, having ordered her car- 
riage for four o’clock, looked out of her draw- 
ing-room window to watch for his approach, and 
was prepared to wave her hand to him with an 
air of welcome. There was an undefined feel- 
ing in Christina’s mind that she had something 
to atone for, and she had prepared a speech of 
welcome which might satisfy the most ardent 
303 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 303 


lover, as well as set her own conscience at rest. 
She would go forward to greet him with both 
her hands outstretched, and discarding her usual 
reserve, would smile into his face, and say, My 
dear, I am so glad you have come.’’ 

She put on her prettiest hat and her most 
charming gown, and smiled even outside the 
drawing-room door where within she knew that 
Tim was now awaiting her. 

He stood by the window, and the room was 
a long one; by the time she had reached the first 
sofa Christina’s smile had waned a little, by the 
fireplace her outstretched hands drooped to her 
sides, under the palms her expression was blank, 
and when the duke turned round to give her his 
greeting, Christina said, How do you do; do 
you know, you are much shorter than I thought 
you were? ” 

Ha, ha,” laughed the duke, I am very sorry, 
Christina — bowed down by care perhaps,” with 
a feeble attempt at jocularity; then because there 
was something just impinging on truth in his 
statement the young man blushed, laughed, and 
said feebly, My mother is rather short, you 
know.” 

Christina said “ tuts ” under her breath, and 
suggested that they should start for their drive. 
To her vigorous mind Tim’s feeble rejoinder was 
not compensated for by its politeness, and she 
sailed downstairs feeling what she herself would 
have called aggravated.” 


304 THE ^’ORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

Where shall we go — Ha, ha,’’ said the duke, 

“ How there really is no joke in asking where 
we shall drive to,” commented Christina; and she 
remarked that there were two teas she would like 
to attend before taking a turn in the park. 

Oh, teas, my dear, must we? ” said the duke. 

Christina’s rebuking conscience caused her to 
say, Is there anything you would like to do 
better?” but this indecision, while the footman 
waited by the carriage door for his orders, was 
distinctly foreign to her usual promptitude. 

“ What do you say to Lord’s,” asked Tim, 
or couldn’t we drive somewhere quietly, where 
there is no crowd of people? ” 

I will do just what you like,” said Christina, 
in her old accommodating way, and the duke 
having suggested Richmond, and tea there, with 
a drive back again when it was cooler, it became 
imperative that the footman should have orders 
of some sort, and Richmond was given as their 
destination, though why,” thought Christina, 
with her usual inward comment, why a man 
should always want to get away from his fellow- 
creatures is what I cannot understand.” 

She wondered if Tim’s tastes would always 
lie in the direction of solitude when the two were 
married, and the domestic aspect of matrimony, 
suddenly coming into view, smote her with a chill 
sense of apprehension. 

Matrimony was not to be a public triumph, 
but a personal experience. During pre-matri- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 305 


monial days it is the privilege of the lady to com- 
memorate her conquest in a manner somewhat 
barbaric, a little brazen and ostentatious, and her 
captive, willing or unwilling, is expected to be 
more or less tied to her chariot-wheels. 

But jubilees do not last for ever, and the day 
of demonstration must of necessity be short, and 
when the crowd has stopped staring, and the bands 
have ceased to play, and every one has gone home, 
when the blinds have been pulled down and the 
shouting is all over, then matrimony begins. 

Visions of quiet evenings with Tim rose be- 
fore Christina’s eyes, of walks round the garden 
with Tim, of drives in the country just like this, 
still with Tim, and not a soul looking on. 

I wonder what we shall do when it is wet,” 
thought Christina, and she gave such a deep sigh, 
that Tim turned round and said, not tired, I 
hope? ” 

Tim,” said Christina, do you think when 
we are married we might live in town? ” 

In town! ” said the duke aghast. In Lon- 
don, do you mean, and wear a tall hat all the 
year round? ” 

London,” said Christina drily, “will soon 
become depopulated unless the fashion of gen- 
tlemen’s headgear is altered; I have never heard 
them give a better reason for not living in the 
capital than that they would be obliged to wear 
a silk hat.” 

The duke laughed, but the idea of living in 


306 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 

London could not of course be seriously contem- 
plated by any reasonable man. 

^‘We can run up for a week or two, when- 
ever you care about it,’’ he said, but I think it 
would be rather beastly to have one’s home any- 
where but in the country,” then after a pause, 
No hunting, or shooting, you know,” he added 
in an explanatory manner. 

I do not hunt, or shoot,” snapped Christina. 

Tim,” she said firmly, we must always 
have guests with us.” 

Of course, of course, if you care about it,” 
said the duke, though I think myself it is rather 
nice to be quiet sometimes.” 

In the realms of nature,” thought Christina, 
with that inward shrewdness which never deserted 
her, in the far distant deserts of Egypt, or on 
African plains, or even indeed under dear dull 
green trees, in sleepy English lanes, it does not 
matter a bit whether you are a duke or not.” 

The thought was illuminating, but horrible, 
and following upon it there came again a vision 
of those quiet evenings by the winter fire, when 
the curtains would be drawn, and the snow lie 
thick on the fields outside. 

It was quickly dismissed by Christina, with an 
impatient shrug, my money at least* is a sub- 
stantial blessing,” she thought, however ephem- 
eral other things may be.” But even money 
may lack interest when a fortune is sufficiently 
large to make money appear non-existent, and the 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 307 


tliought of those table loads of handsome presents 
in Grosvenor Square, the almost endless trophies 
of gold, and silver, and diamonds, gave her a 
feeling of oppression, if not of nausea. 

There was really nothing new nor fresh to be 
bought now, things could only be duplicated, car- 
riage horses might be multiplied by ten, and silver 
plate by twenty, and fresh servants might be en- 
gaged as caretakers of fresh possessions, but that 
any solid satisfaction could be got from heaping 
up treasure seemed very doubtful. 

Pausing in her cogitations Christina was aware 
that her companion had cleared his throat three 
successive times. I hope, dear,’’ said the duke, 
with boyish awkwardness — I hope we shall get 
on all right, and — and that I shall make you happy 
and all that.” 

There was a note of apology in his voice that 
was not lost upon Christina M^lSTab. 

There’s a great deal in getting used to each 
other,” she remarked, with her almost alarming 
sapiency. 

“ Yes, yes,” said the duke eagerly, “ I do think 
there is a great deal in that, you know,” and 
then still with that suspicious note of apology in 
his voice, he continued: And of course I do 
believe in mutual respect, and good-fellowship 
and that sort of thing.” 

Yes,” said Christina, they are very valua- 
ble ” (stumbling upon truthfulness again) in 
their own way.” 


308 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


“ we must have tea/’ he said with an air 
of relief, as the carriage drew up at the Star and 
Garter Hotel. 

They had tea and bread and butter at a little 
round table, and Christina heard one of the wait- 
ers remark to another that that was the young 
Dook of Southwark and his young woman. 

After tea they took a turn in the park and 
Tim somewhat laboriously pointed out objects of 
interest in the landscape. 

We are quite like old married people,” he 
said to Christina, as they drove back home 
again. 

Yes, quite old,” said Christina with uncon- 
scious sarcasm. 

In the evening they were at a dance together 
and Christina told the duke three times that she 
was not in the least tired after her drive, turning 
at last to him with grave eyes and asking, “ Why 
do you inquire so often ? ” 

I thought you looked a little tired,” said 
Tim. “ Why not rest to-morrow, we need not 
do anything, need we? and I will not come and 
bother you.” 

“ Thank you, Tim,” said Christina. 

The duke,” said an impertinent boy part- 
ner, who took Christina in to supper, is like a 
Cheshire cat without its grin. We call it ^ the 
serious wooing,’ you know. Miss M^Hab.” 

wooing ought to be serious,” said Chris- 
tina sententiously. ■ ■ 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 309 


Quite, quite,’’ said the boy partner, in a 
fashionable, fatuous way. 

Lord Hardcastle came up to claim a dance, 
saying, Let us renew our youth. Miss M‘hJ’ab! 
in a few weeks’ time we shall both be staid, old 
married people.” He laughed so joyously as he 
said it that Christina caught the infection of it 
and laughed too. 

“ Life is a very delightful thing don’t you 
think ? ” he said in an irrelevant manner, and with 
a happy self-congratulatory air. 

Oh,” said Christina with charming sincerity, 
am so glad it has come all right for you, I 
am so glad you are happy ! ” 

He gave her hand a little grateful squeeze, 
and remarked — 

It is very absurd to feel so boyish as I do, 
but as a matter of fact I really must dance; do 
you mind, or are you tired? ” 

Every one thinks I am tired to-night,” said 
Christina, “ but I should really like to dance.” 

They took a few swift turns round the empty- 
ing ball-room, and then went to sit on one of the 
balconies of the house. 

Tell me about yourself,” said Barnabas, I 
have become so horribly egotistical that I have 
forgotten even to ask about settlements and trans- 
fers, and bonds and coupons.” 

“ I think all the business is finished now,” re- 
plied Christina, in a fiat voice. 

I think,” said Lord Hardcastle, that it was 


310 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA ]V?NAB 

the very pleasantest sort of business that I ever 
took part in; we are all so glad you know that 
you and Tim are going to be happy, and then 
you did spoil us dreadfully during our business 
conferences. What a good fellow M^Crae is.’’ 
He waited for an assent, but none being forth- 
coming he went on, “ You have known him all 
your life, so of course the fact that he is a good 
fellow does not appeal to you as being a very 
startling new discovery.” 

Still no answer, and the kindly voice went 
on: — 

“ That new lamp of his seems to be extraordi- 
narily clever, I was speaking to Lord Kelvin 
about it and there seems no doubt that it is going 
to be a great success.” A long pause. 

I believe you really are tired ; why not let 
me fetch Mrs. Hayes and tell her you want to 
go home? ” 

“ Ko, please, I really do not want to go yet,” 
said Christina. 

Lord Hardcastle, I wish you would do some- 
thing for me? ” She raised her sweet grey eyes to 
his, and Barny replied, “ Why, of course I will, 
what is it? ” 

“I wish you would find out if the London 
Scottish are going to march through Grosvenor 
Square on Saturday.” 

“ I can do that with pleasure.” 

“ Then I think I will go home now.” 

Kow whether Lord Hardcastle used any influ- 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 311 


ence with the colonel of the regiment or not, is 
more than I am prepared to say, but the fact 
remains that the Highlanders in their grey kilts 
did march through Grosvenor Square on Saturday 
afternoon, and that Christina M^Hab watched 
them from her drawing-room windows — with the 
most disastrous results! 

Colin M^Crae looked up at the windows. 

“ He can’t see me, ‘ surely,” said Christina, 
drawing back into the folds of the curtains: but 
Colin’s eyes had travelled further than the draw- 
ing-room floor. They were directed to some 
upper window far above Christina’s head. “ He 
will think I am in my bed-room,” said Christina. 
And then a very strange thing happened. Colin 
— Colin M^Crae, marching along with his regi- 
ment, smiled up at that upper window, and hissed 
his hand. Of course, gentle reader, you will say 
that this was impossible, that no young man 
marching by in the streets of London with the 
London Scottish Volunteers could kiss his hand to 
an upper window of a house in Grosvenor Square. 
All I can say is that Colin did this very thing — 
not only so, but having done it once, it would 
seem that his salutation must have met with some 
response, for Colin did it again, and then passed 
smiling down the square. 

Christina ran upstairs like a lamp-lighter: 

Jessie!” she cried, bursting into that faithful 
abigail’s room which was next her own, J essie, 
at your age it is — it is indecent I ” but Jessie was 


312 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 


not in her room. “ It must be Eliza, then, that 
pert, English housemaid with the honey cheeks 
and the saucy curls.’’ And Christina sped on- 
wards to the highest storey of her house; but 
here, as on the lower floor, all was deserted. 
She returned to the drawing-room and rang the 
bell precipitously. To her came Jessie (all scared- 
like, as she said), and Christina drew herself to 
her full height, the angry flush still on her face, 
and said, Jessie, if I find that there is a servant 
in this house who kisses her hand to soldiers, she 
leaves at the term! ” 

Such tantrums 1 ” murmured J essie, descend- 
ing to the lower regions again. 

But the matter could not rest there. For his 
own sake Christina must speak to the delinquent. 
A footman was summoned, and despatched with a 
note to Mr. M^Crae to come at once. So Colin 
came in a hansom, still clad in the grey kilt which 
had so much offended Lady Tarbutt’s sensibilities. 

Christina stood in the middle of her drawing- 
room. She was too angry to sit down. 

Colin,” she said, almost before the young 
man had entered the room, Colin, I will not 
have my house disgraced in this way.” 

Colin laughed, with the backward throw of 
his head which helped to make the sound so 
mirthful: but he gave no explanation of his 
conduct. 

“ Please don’t suppose,” went on Christina, 
don’t — don’t dare to suppose that I mind for 


THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M‘NAB 313 


my own sake — that I mind, I mean, whom you 
' kiss your hand to. But I do not — I do not like 
to see you, Colin, behaving like a common body.’’ 

“ You haven’t told me what I did yet,” said 
Colin, smiling. 

“ No, and I will not tell you,” said Christina 
with dignity; but, remember, if it was Eliza, 
that most disagreeable and impertinent girl leaves 
at this day month.” 

It wasn’t Eliza,” said Colin. 

Then, who ? Colin, I won’t debase myself 

by asking who it was.” 

I was kissing my hand,” said Colin, to an 
old sweetheart of mine.” 

“ Colin,” said Christina, and her voice shook, 
^^you know — ^you know you couldn’t see me be- 
hind the curtains.” 

No,” said Colin, “ but I was kissing ^ Good- 
bye ’ to all she used to be to me in the old days. 
I can’t come to her wedding, you see, Christina, 
so that was my way of saying ^ Good-bye ’ to her.” 

“And you thought I was upstairs?” said 
Christina softly. 

“ No,” said Colin, “ it was just to an old mem- 
ory that I threw a kiss of farewell.” 

They were standing opposite to each other in 
the big London drawing-room, the fine young 
Highlander in his kilt and shoon, and the girl 
with her white gown and golden hair, and her 
face all blushes, and sudden pallors, and blushes 
again, and all the outside world of London be- 


314 THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA JVTNAB 

came dim; they two were alone in all the world 
— only Christina and Colin in the whole universe. 
Tim was a phantasy of the brain like the passing 
traffic outside, nothing and no one were real, nor 
breathed, except Christina and Colin, two persons 
in an empty world and only a few feet of polished 
floor between them. 

And they said nothing more to each other, 
only Colin just looked at her, and held out his 
arms, and Christina was in them before she knew 
very well what she was about, and was saying 
with a little sob and a little laugh, and then a 
sob and a laugh together — 

“ Colin, I think it was always you.’’ 

Christina, darling, darling,” said Colin, 
haven’t I known that all the time? ” 

“ The conceit of you, Colin,” cried Christina, 
why I only found it out myself two or three 
days ago.” 


THE END 




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